I was silent for a full minute. Was this what Matt really thought of me? I shouldn’t have felt totally surprised — didn’t I sometimes think this very thing? — but it was strange and awful to hear my husband say what I feared about myself.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to run for office first,” I said, my voice making it clear that I was anything but. “I’m sorry you’re so jealous of Jimmy that you’re about to burst. But don’t you dare take it out on me.” I was so angry that my hands were shaking. We’d fought in the past, of course we had, but it had never felt like this, like things would be different after, like what we were saying couldn’t ever be taken back.
Matt stood up and walked right out the door without turning around. I didn’t call or text him that night. I assumed that he got another shitty room in this shitty hotel, but we never talked about it. I lay down, still fully dressed, and pulled the sheets over me. I slept fitfully that night — it felt like I woke up every five minutes or so, just long enough each time to remember that my husband wasn’t there.
Chapter 18
In July, we went back to DC for a couple of days. Babs suggested it and I was adamant that we go. There was no way we were going to make it to St. Michaels in August, and I thought maybe seeing his family would cheer Matt up, or snap him back to normal, or do something, anything. His parents had talked about coming to see us in Texas, but Matt flat-out told them not to, said that we didn’t have any time to spend with them. The fact that I was now pushing to go see the Kellys should’ve been a red flag for everyone. But I was desperate.
Matt and I were on civil terms, but just barely. After the fight in Luling, we’d ridden home without talking to each other, which was surprisingly easy to do with two other adults and one baby in the car. Ash and Jimmy were still mad at each other too, so our car ride was like one big bizarre game of telephone: Each person could talk to anyone in the car except their spouse. Once, Ash slipped and asked Jimmy to turn down the radio, and then she sat back in her seat, put her sunglasses on, and frowned out the window. No doubt upset with herself for losing the game.
That night, back at the house, I said to Matt, “I’m sorry we fought,” which wasn’t the same thing as actually apologizing. He looked at me and said, “I’m sorry we fought too,” and then we both stood there, waiting for the other one to say something more. Neither of us did. There were moments when I thought about bringing it up, trying to resolve things — and then I’d remember what he said to me, how much his words stung, and I didn’t think there was anything that would make it better.
So, the fight wasn’t really over, it was just that neither of us saw the point in discussing it anymore. Which, when you thought about it, was so much worse.
—
The afternoon before we left, Ash and I were out back with Viv, who was toddling around in the grass, and Ash turned to me and said, “How are things going with Matt? I’ve been worried about you.”
She looked at me with such pity, like she couldn’t imagine how I was dealing with my horrible marriage. I wanted to ask her if she was delusional, if she remembered all the fights she’d had lately with Jimmy. They’d been on strange terms since Luling, talking mostly through the baby, trading veiled insults all day. I’m sure it made her feel better to tell herself that Matt and I were much worse off than they were. At that moment, I wanted badly not to be living in her house, wished that I was far away from her. The trip to DC was well timed.
“Things are fine,” I finally said. “I’m not worried about anything.”
—
Matt and I landed at Reagan on Sunday afternoon and went right to our apartment, which had been vacated the week before by our renter. Matt walked all over the apartment, examining our furniture and the walls, almost like he was hoping to find something that was damaged so he’d have a reason to be angry. But it all looked fine. Babs had sent Rosie over a few days earlier, so it was shiny and clean and smelled like Murphy’s Oil Soap. “It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” I said. “I missed this place.”
“Mmm,” Matt said, which could have meant yes or no or I don’t give a fuck.
I didn’t ask him to clarify.
—
Babs had (obviously) arranged for everyone to come over for Sunday dinner, and I was actually looking forward to it. Part of it was that I didn’t like being alone with Matt — when it was just the two of us, it was impossible to ignore that something was wrong — and I thought it would be nice to have the distraction of his family.
Our car was in Texas, so we took an Uber to the Kellys’, and I hoped that since Matt didn’t have to worry about driving, he’d be able to relax and have a few beers. He spent the car ride looking down at his BlackBerry, which I’d started to think was just a convenient excuse to ignore me.
When we pulled up, Babs opened the door before we even had a chance to get out of the car. “They’re here!” she yelled over her shoulder and into the house, not taking her eyes off Matt. She hadn’t seen him in six months, which was the longest they’d ever been apart, and it looked like she wanted to run right over to him, but she managed to wait until we got to the door before folding him into her arms. “You look tired,” she said to him, and he pulled away from her. “I’m fine,” he said. She frowned, looking first at him and then at me. “And you look like you’ve lost weight. Are you taking care of yourself?”
“He’s been working so hard,” I said.
“Well of course he has,” Babs said and put her hand on Matt’s back as she led him into the house.
—
For once, I was grateful for the noise that the Kellys made. It was hard to think about anything amid the chaos. My nieces ran toward me, shrieking and jumping into my arms, being overdramatic and silly as they took turns hugging me. Jenny and Nellie grabbed me and took me out to the patio. “We already got you a glass of wine,” Nellie told me. Rebecca greeted me with a smile, sat outside with us for an unprecedented fifteen minutes before going to check on Jonah. “We really missed you,” she said before she got up, putting her hand on my forearm. It was the most affectionate she’d ever been with me. Even Meg hugged me before returning into the house to resume texting.
Jenny and Nellie chatted, and I kept an eye on Matt, waiting to see if he’d smile or relax or at least look less miserable. I did see him smiling when he talked to Babs, but even from across the lawn, I could tell it was a weak smile, an obligatory one.
For whatever reason, we were there for over two hours before we sat down to dinner — maybe Babs thought everyone would want extra time to visit or maybe something had gone wrong in the kitchen. (Although I don’t think that was the case, because Babs didn’t seem annoyed, which she would’ve been if Rosie had messed something up.)
A little before 7:00, most people had gone inside, but Matt and I were still sitting on the patio. “Are you okay?” I said. I asked him this question all the time during those months — when he was quiet, when he was mad, when he seemed spaced out. It probably made him angrier that I kept asking, but honestly, I couldn’t help it.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m just tired. I’d like to eat at some point. This is taking forever.”
“Your mom said it was almost ready,” I told him, and he nodded.
Our nephews Bobby and Conor were on the lawn, still playing with a kickball, getting goofy and kicking it high in the air, twirling to make themselves dizzy before trying to catch it. They stumbled close to where we were sitting, and Matt said, “Watch it, guys,” but they barely paid attention to him. He didn’t normally discipline them, but we were the only adults in the backyard at the moment, so maybe he felt like he had to say something. Still, it was unusual.