My husband showed up with his suitcases and announced, \u201cMy girlfriend kicked me out, so I\u2019m back!\u201d\u2014so I gave him a welcome that made him wish he\u2019d never returned<\/p>\n
\u201cLorraine, are you expecting Keith?\u201d my neighbor Brenda asked over the phone. \u201cHe\u2019s standing in your driveway with two suitcases.\u201d<\/p>\n
I crossed the living room and looked through the curtains. There was my husband of twenty-two years, struggling to balance a set of golf clubs against the trunk of his car.<\/p>\n
Four months earlier, Keith had told me he was leaving for a woman who made him feel young again. He called it a fresh start, as if our marriage were an old job he\u2019d finally worked up the courage to quit.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not expecting him,\u201d I told Brenda. \u201cBut apparently he has other plans.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened the door before he could ring the bell. Keith smiled with the same confidence he\u2019d worn when he announced he was moving out.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019m back,\u201d he said. \u201cMonica and I are finished. She threw me out yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry things didn\u2019t work out,\u201d I replied, although I wasn\u2019t sure I meant it.<\/p>\n
He shrugged. \u201cShe was impossible to live with. Always asking where I\u2019d been, checking my phone. I finally told her I\u2019d had enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you said she threw you out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the difference? It\u2019s over.\u201d<\/p>\n
He rolled a suitcase onto the porch and looked past me toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you made dinner? I haven\u2019t eaten since breakfast.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a moment I simply stared at him. Twenty-two years of marriage, four months of separation, and his first concern was whether I\u2019d cooked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s food in the refrigerator,\u201d I said. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Keith chuckled as though we were teasing each other. \u201cCome on, Lorraine. Help me get these inside, and we\u2019ll talk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou left me for someone else. You can\u2019t arrive with your luggage and decide we\u2019re married again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know I hurt you. I made a mistake. But we\u2019ve got too much history to throw away.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou seemed comfortable throwing it away in July.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed and moved his golf clubs closer to the steps. \u201cI don\u2019t want to stand here arguing with you. I just want things back to normal.\u201d<\/p>\n
The first night after he left, I\u2019d cried over his coffee mug beside the sink. I missed the sound of his keys and the way he reached for me in his sleep. But I\u2019d also begun noticing how often I\u2019d rearranged my days around his wishes. Now he expected it again.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you want a proper welcome,\u201d I told him, \u201cgive me five minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face brightened. \u201cThat\u2019s my girl.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed the door and called Brenda back.<\/p>\n
\u201cRemember when you said you\u2019d stand with me if Keith ever came to collect the rest of his things?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s asking for them now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s asking to move in. I\u2019ve got his things packed in the garage. Could you come over?\u201d<\/p>\n
Brenda made a sound of disbelief. \u201cI\u2019ll be right there. And Lorraine, don\u2019t let him talk you into anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brenda had brought soup and sat with me through those first difficult weeks after Keith left. I trusted her to help me keep the conversation calm.<\/p>\n
When I opened the door again, Keith grinned.<\/p>\n
\u201cKnew you\u2019d come around. Where do you want the bags?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNowhere inside. I packed the clothes and other things you left behind. They\u2019re in two boxes in the garage, ready for you to take.\u201d<\/p>\n
His smile faded. \u201cI thought you said you were welcoming me home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI said I\u2019d give you five minutes. I never said you could stay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you really doing this in front of the neighbors?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou came without calling. I didn\u2019t arrange an audience.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brenda stepped out onto her porch and waved. Keith lowered his voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cLorraine, please. I made a bad decision, and I\u2019ve paid for it. Monica won\u2019t even let me back into her apartment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you asked how I\u2019ve been?\u201d I said. \u201cOr whether I want you here?\u201d<\/p>\n
He seemed startled by the question. Instead of answering, he noticed the new blue paint around the kitchen doorway.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou repainted? You know I never liked that color.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know. I do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then his eyes moved to the lock. I\u2019d had it changed after he signed away his share of the house, and the locksmith had installed a brass handle that didn\u2019t match the old one.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou changed the locks without telling me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou haven\u2019t lived here for months, Keith.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened his mouth to argue, then asked for a glass of water. I went inside to get one, leaving him on the porch.<\/p>\n
My accounting workbook was open on the kitchen counter. I\u2019d started evening classes after our separation, finally pursuing a qualification I\u2019d put off for years. Beside it lay a folder from my divorce attorney.<\/p>\n
I filled a glass, and my phone rang again. It was Brenda.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis may sound strange,\u201d she said, \u201cbut did Keith ever tell you Monica\u2019s last name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think so. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy sister Susan belongs to a book club with a woman named Monica. She broke up with a man yesterday. Susan says he\u2019d told her several things that didn\u2019t add up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll ask Susan for a picture before we assume anything,\u201d Brenda said. \u201cKeep Keith outside for a few minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
She hung up. I carried the water to the door, where Keith was examining the brass handle as though it had personally offended him.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we come inside now?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot yet. I want to ask you something. How long were you seeing Monica before you left me?\u201d<\/p>\n
He took a drink. \u201cWhy drag that up? It didn\u2019t start until things between us were already falling apart.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me everything was fine until the day you packed your things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t listening to me, Lorraine. I felt lonely in this marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Monica know you were still married?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe knew we were separated.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression hardened. \u201cCan you stop interrogating me on the front porch?\u201d<\/p>\n
My phone vibrated. Brenda had sent a photograph of a man standing beside a woman in a red coat outside a restaurant. The man was Keith, smiling for the camera with one arm around her shoulders.<\/p>\n
Another message followed: *It\u2019s him. Monica wants to speak to you. We\u2019re coming over.*<\/p>\n
I read it twice. Keith watched me put the phone down.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s Brenda telling you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s bringing someone who knows you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked toward the street, then gripped his suitcase handle.<\/p>\n
\u201cLorraine, let\u2019s not make this worse. I came here because I want us to work things out.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brenda\u2019s car pulled in. She got out with Susan, followed by the woman from the photograph. Monica looked tired, gripping her handbag tightly.<\/p>\n
Keith took one step backward. \u201cWhat is she doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n
Monica stopped a few feet away. \u201cI needed to find out whether anything you\u2019ve told me was true.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brenda came to stand beside me. Susan stayed near the car, giving us space.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me you divorced Lorraine two years ago,\u201d Monica said. \u201cYou said you only spoke to her because of your teenage son.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not exactly what I said,\u201d Keith began.<\/p>\n
\u201cOur son is twenty-five,\u201d I told her. \u201cHe lives in another state. Keith moved out four months ago, and our divorce isn\u2019t final.\u201d<\/p>\n
Monica closed her eyes. \u201cHe told me his name was Martin when we met.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s his middle name,\u201d I said. \u201cHis first name is Keith.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned toward me, frustrated. \u201cDoes every detail really matter? I told her my marriage was finished.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me you were a single man,\u201d Monica replied. \u201cYou said your wife had refused to support you when your mother was sick.\u201d<\/p>\n
The mention of his mother hurt. I\u2019d driven her to chemotherapy appointments every Thursday for six months, filled her freezer with meals, and sat beside her when she felt too weak to get up.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was there with his mother,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cI took time off work to help her.\u201d<\/p>\n
Monica looked at Keith. \u201cYou said Lorraine wouldn\u2019t even visit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was trying to explain how unhappy I was,\u201d he snapped. \u201cYou don\u2019t know what it was like for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I recognized his expression. He expected me to smooth things over, as I had for years. This time, I said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen did you start seeing him?\u201d I asked Monica.<\/p>\n
She hesitated. \u201cIn March. By May he was telling me he loved me. We went to dinner on May fourteenth.\u201d<\/p>\n
May fourteenth was our anniversary. He\u2019d claimed to have a late meeting. I\u2019d made his favorite chicken dinner and left a plate for him in the refrigerator.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou spent our anniversary with her,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was going to tell you,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you weren\u2019t,\u201d Monica said. \u201cYou told me you spent that night alone because it was a painful reminder of your divorce.\u201d<\/p>\n
Keith rubbed his forehead. \u201cI never wanted either of you to get hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why did you build a relationship out of lies?\u201d Monica asked.<\/p>\n
He looked at me again. \u201cLorraine, please. Monica kept questioning everything I said. That\u2019s why I left. I know I messed up, but I want to come home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe questioned you because your stories changed,\u201d I replied. \u201cAnd you came here because you needed somewhere to stay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere else am I supposed to go? Hotels cost a fortune.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou already accepted the buyout for your share of the house,\u201d I reminded him. \u201cThe ownership transfer was completed last month. The house is in my name now.\u201d<\/p>\n
He glanced at the door, then at the new lock.<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t think you\u2019d actually make me leave,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou asked for a fresh start, Keith. You signed the papers. I took you seriously.\u201d<\/p>\n
Monica turned to me. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. If I\u2019d known you were still married, I never would have gone out with him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou believed him,\u201d I said. \u201cSo did I, for a very long time.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded and walked back toward the car with Susan. Keith called her name once, but she didn\u2019t turn around.<\/p>\n
He stood on my porch, looking older than when he\u2019d arrived. I felt no triumph, only sadness and anger.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll open the garage for your boxes,\u201d I told him. \u201cBrenda will stay until you\u2019ve loaded everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLorraine, are you really doing this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. You can\u2019t move back into my life just because the other one didn\u2019t work out.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stepped inside and pressed the garage remote. Through the front window, I watched Keith carry the boxes to his car, then wrestle the suitcases and golf clubs into the trunk. Brenda remained by her front steps, exactly as she\u2019d promised.<\/p>\n
When he drove away, I sat at the kitchen table and cried. I\u2019d wanted him to choose me for so long. Now he\u2019d returned, but only because he had nowhere else to go.<\/p>\n
Brenda returned with sparkling cider and a tiny cake, then asked if I wanted company.<\/p>\n
\u201cI do,\u201d I told her.<\/p>\n
We ate cake for dinner in my blue kitchen. I cried again halfway through, and Brenda waited without trying to cheer me up. After a while, we talked about my next class and the roses she wanted to plant along her fence.<\/p>\n
When she finally went home, I washed our plates and put the leftover cake in the refrigerator. The house was quiet, but I didn\u2019t turn on the television. I took my workbook back to the table, found the page I\u2019d stopped on, and finished the exercise before going to bed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"