On Grace by Susie Orman Schnall Read Free Book Online Page B

me.”
    “What?” she reaches out and grabs my hand. “Oh, Grace. What happened?”
    I manage to get the whole story out in between sobs while Cameron listens intently.
    “Wow, I never would have suspected that Darren would ever do that to you,” she says warmly, digging for more tissues in her purse since I’ve exhausted our table’s napkin supply and there are no empty tables nearby to steal from.
    I explain all the different thoughts that have been going through my head and tell her I’m just so confused, and I don’t know what to do. Whenever I hear of women who had good marriages and then were cheated on once and proceed to get divorced, I always think that it’s such a shame the couple couldn’t work it out. That they’ve thrown away their entire family and history over one worthless night. But now, it has happened to me. And I understand. Rationally, it’s easy to say that Darren’s affair didn’t mean anything, and the meaningful minutes, days, and years of our relationship that led up to that regrettable moment should stand for more than a quick orgasm. But the fact that that orgasm was in a vagina that isn’t attached to my body clouds every rational thought. And that’s where I’m stuck.
    “I’m not trying to defend him, Grace, but you know Darren and you know that this is so uncharacteristic of him, and that has to stand for something. I abhor what he did. But I really hope you two can work it out,” she says, putting her hand over mine.
    I nod, crying, as the waitress sets down our pancakes. I wish I had ordered the chocolate-chip ones. With whipped cream.
    Cameron continues carefully, “Would you consider counseling?”
    “Yes. But not yet. I just want to sort through my feelings first before I let someone else pathologize them.”
    We spend the next hour talking through all of my feelings and coming to no conclusions. Outside the restaurant, Cameron tells me she’ll support me no matter what I decide.
    “Do you want me to tell Jack?” she asks.
    “Not yet,” I say, knowing how hard it will be for Cameron to keep a secret from Jack, but also knowing that she will.
    “Thanks for your support, Cam. I just want to make sure you’ll support me in whatever I decide. I don’t really know what I’m going to do.”
    “You’ll do what you have to do. Don’t try to figure it all out right now. Don’t worry about what you think you should do or what you think other people will expect you to do. Only think about what’s right for you and your family.”
    We hug goodbye and she tells me not to fight the conflicting emotions, that I should explore and embrace them, that these emotions all serve a purpose in getting me where I need to be. She DVRs too much Oprah, but her words ease my mind a little. I take a deep breath and head toward Grand Central with just enough time to catch the train and meet the boys’ bus on time.
     
    Darren comes home that night with flowers. And even though the almost-wilted blooms scream end-of-day, train-station special, I realize he’s trying. The boys eat their dessert—strawberries and chocolate chips—while Darren eats his dinner—reheated chicken parm—and I arrange the flowers in a crystal vase we got for our wedding.
    We got married on a magnificent May day at The Ritz-Carlton, Marina del Rey in Los Angeles. Darren’s family and many of our friends flew in from the East Coast for the weekend-long affair planned superbly with the help of my mom’s good taste and my dad’s checkbook. While not as low-key as Darren would have liked, it was warm, elegant, memorable, and a hell of a lot of fun. Each year on our anniversary, I recreate the meal we had that night—prime rib, herbed risotto, and roasted baby vegetables—and we eat in front of the TV while watching our wedding video. Darren always protests playfully, saying it’s cruel and unusual punishment to force a man to watch a wedding video. But he’s always the one who suggests we dress up,