“Adam.” She didn’t scream it, but she said it suddenly, like she was saying “Boo,” trying to scare him.
Adam’s head turned toward her, and she said, “Thank God.” Her pulse was pounding. “Sorry, I thought you were… never mind.”
He turned back toward the TV and resumed staring.
Dana remained there until her heart rate returned to something close to normal, and then she started to leave.
“I talked to Clements,” Adam said.
Dana stopped. “About what?”
Adam was still facing away from her, looking at Rachael Ray. “I told him about the note that…”He paused, as if struggling to find the right words, then said with disgust, “… that Tony left.”
Again Dana realized how badly she’d hurt Adam.
“What about it?” she asked weakly.
“What do you mean, what about it?” he snapped, sounding like he hated her. “It was almost exactly like the other note, the one that threatened to kill me.”
Dana hadn’t thought about this before- or at all, really- because she’d had so much other crap on her mind. Why would Tony have left a note threatening Adam’s life and claiming to be involved in the robbery? Tony might’ve been trying to harass Dana and her family, but leaving a note didn’t seem like something he’d do.
“Are you sure the notes looked the same?” Dana asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. It was the same paper, same print. Everything was the same.” “That would be weird,” Dana said.
“What?” Adam asked, though Dana knew he’d heard the first time and was trying to be harsh with her intentionally, to try to upset her.
“I don’t see why he would’ve done that,” she said.
“Clements asked me if Tony had ever been to the house,” Adam said. “Had he?”
Dana immediately thought about the bouquet of flowers. She didn’t want to tell Adam about this, afraid that it would lead to more questions about the past and that he’d accuse her of having sex with Tony in their house, in their bed, and she didn’t want to get into another big argument.
“No,” Dana said.
“Never?” Adam asked.
“As far as I know… no, never.”
“Did he know Gabriela?”
“How would he know her?”
“Did he know her or not?”
“I have no idea. I don’t see how he could’ve-”
“Do you think he could’ve robbed the house or not?”
“No,” Dana said.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t think it’s something he’d do.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just don’t.”
Adam was quiet for several seconds, then said, “I’ll call Clements and tell him. He said he’s gonna send somebody by later to pick up the note.”
Another several seconds passed, and then Dana, still talking to Adam’s back, said, “So what do you want to do?”
“About what?”
Again she felt like he knew full well and was trying to agitate her.
“What do you think?” she said. “I’m willing to work on it if you are. I feel awful about everything, and I know we have a lot to work out, but I think we can get through this. I mean, you see patients all the time in these situations, and you help them and they wind up staying in their marriages. People make mistakes, but it doesn’t have to be the end.”
“Sometimes it is the end,” Adam said.
The coldness in his voice sent the clear message that as far as he was concerned the conversation was over; there was no room for discussion.
Dana stood there for a while, stunned, and then she left before she started crying again.
Adam didn’t come to bed. Although he and Dana usually slept with a lot of space between them, barely touching, the bed still felt very empty without him, and she woke up several times during the night and cried into her pillow until she fell back asleep.
In the morning she woke up as Adam was closing one of the dresser drawers. He left the room immediately, probably going to shower in the guest bathroom. Later, when Dana heard the front door slam, she got out of bed.
She went downstairs. Adam hadn’t left any coffee for her, but this time she didn’t feel like it was passive- aggressive; it was just plain aggressive.
He’d also left bagel crumbs on the counter and hadn’t bothered to put his dishes in the sink. Then Dana noticed that he’d written something on the blackboard in the kitchen where they sometimes left notes for each other. She went closer and saw I want you to move out.
Dana cried for a long time, knowing there was nothing she could do or say to change Adam’s mind. She would try to talk to him again, but she knew it wouldn’t help. Sometimes it is the end.
The worst part was that she was going through all of this entirely alone. Normally, Sharon would’ve been the only friend she’d feel comfortable talking to about something so personal and traumatic. She considered calling other friends, like Deborah, whom she’d grown up with in Dix Hills, Long Island, or Geri from the PTA, but she felt embarrassed and ashamed to actually say, “I’m getting a divorce.” She felt like saying the words would make it real, there’d be no turning back, and as soon as she told someone, word would get around the neighborhood, and there would be more drama. Everyone would be talking about her, even people she hardly knew. Did you hear Dana Bloom’s getting a divorce? Oh, no, that’s so terrible. Everyone talking about her like she was this poor defenseless thing, a victim. Being divorced would become her new identity because, after all, what other identity did she have? She had no career, no young children. Her life had no meaning.
Dana got back into bed and didn’t want to get up. She was more scared than depressed, but she was aware that a depression was setting in and had a feeling it would only get worse. There was no way she’d be able to get through the stress of moving out, finding a new apartment, and the legal and financial nightmare all alone. She needed to get back on Prozac. Talking to someone, a professional, would probably be a good idea, too. She convinced herself to call her psychiatrist, Dr. Feldman, whom she hadn’t seen in what, three years? She took the soonest appointment Feldman had, this coming Wednesday afternoon.
Sometime in the afternoon Dana heard Marissa come up the stairs and go into her room. Dana hadn’t really considered the effect the divorce would have on her daughter. Yes, Marissa was twenty- two, so it wasn’t exactly like having to explain the situation to a young child, but it was still going to be a big deal in her life. Dana suddenly felt extremely guilty- for deserting Marissa and for being a bad mother, especially lately. Since Marissa had moved back home, had Dana been there for her at all? No, she’d been off in her fantasy world with Tony, thinking about herself, as usual. Dana couldn’t believe that she’d been in such a fog, that she hadn’t seen the effect that the affair had been having not only on Adam and her marriage but on her entire family.
Dana got out of bed sluggishly. She knocked on Marissa’s door and then heard, “What is it?”
“I need to talk to you,” Dana said.
After a long pause Marissa said, “Come in.”
Dana entered and saw Marissa lying on her back in bed with her iPhone, texting someone. Suddenly she had a flashback of Marissa as a five- or six- year- old in the same bed, having a nightmare in the middle of the night and calling out, “Mommy!” Dana would always get up- Adam was such a deep sleeper, he would’ve let her cry all night- and get into bed with Marissa and hug her tightly and assure her that everything was going to be all right. Sometimes Marissa would fall right back asleep, but other times Dana would get into bed with her and tell her made- up stories about the adventures of Marissel and Marissel’s parents, Arthur and Diana. The characters were very thinly disguised versions of Dana, Adam, and Marissa, and at the end of each story, Marissel always wound up happy, home in bed, with her parents in the next room.
“What do you want?” Marissa asked, sounding irritated, like she often did lately.