tell anyone,” Gerri said with a small laugh. “I wouldn’t want to bruise his macho image, but Phil has succumbed to counseling once or twice. He hated it, but he went. And I think he cleaned up his act just to get out of it.”
“I can see that. You two seem to be real happy now.”
Happy now? Gerri thought. “We’ve had our struggles. Everyone does. But there’s help out there, you know.” She took Kelly into her arms for a hug.
“I think I admire you more than anyone,” Kelly said.
“Aww, come on...”
“Being able to forgive him for something like that... That took such courage, such commitment.” Kelly’s chin was hooked over Gerri’s shoulder, their arms tight around each other, and Gerri could see her own eyes in the bathroom mirror. They were huge. Her mouth was set; she ground her teeth. Suddenly she thought she looked much older than she had that morning. “I’d forgive John an affair, if he just wanted to be forgiven, to be together again, like we were. God, I miss him so much! I know most women say they’d never forgive that, but I would.”
Gerri had to concentrate to keep from stiffening, to keep herself from either squeezing Kelly to death or throwing her against the stall doors in a fit of denial. Kelly knew everything about Phil. In some ways, she knew him better than Gerri did. He definitely checked in with Kelly more than Gerri; Kelly had to know him like a wife, a buddy, a best friend and a mother to do what she did for him.
“Some things are very hard to get beyond,” Gerri said softly. “But anything is possible.”
Kelly pulled out of Gerri’s embrace and, smiling gratefully, said, “But you did it because you’re strong and wise. You amaze me. You could have just gotten mad and thrown him out—and both of you would have lost each other forever. But you’re so good together.”
Gerri tilted her head and smiled, a completely contrived smile. Her gut was in a vise. “You like him too much,” she said. “I should be jealous. You know more about him than I do.”
“Not hardly.” Kelly laughed. “Seriously, you’re a role model for me. If you can put yourselves back together, better than ever, after another woman, then I can at least try harder to understand what’s wrong before I give up on John.”
There it was, the smoking gun. Another woman. Kelly knew Phil had had an affair, something Gerri had never once suspected. Her mind raced. When? How? Not Phil, she thought. He was a complete partner! He bitched about it, sure. What he wanted was to devote himself to his work, which was important work, and come home to tranquility and order. That wasn’t happening at their house, which was full of kids, strife, challenge, noise, confusion. There was always something. He complained, true, but he always came through. Not always grinning like an idiot, but neither did she.
She was no different. Her work was equally vital and she faced the same chaos at home. Being the woman on the team, however, it seemed to fall to her to attempt to pull it together, assign jobs, schedule events. To keep things running smoothly, she needed him and she didn’t take him for granted any more than he did her. They’d made the kids together; there were obvious compromises involved in growing them up. As far as she could remember, they’d never failed to work together to get it done.
When? How?
She could remember a few rough patches, some periods of adjustment, but she could not remember noticing any of the obvious signs. She paid the bills—there were no unexpected withdrawals of cash, no charged jewelry, flowers, hotel rooms. He’d never been missing for long periods of time. There were no odd phone calls, even on his cell. He took every evening and weekend call within her hearing; he had a tendency to talk so loud she shushed him so she could hear the TV or read. He’d never come home too late to explain; he’d never smelled like another woman. Those nights he stayed in the city, she’d often called him late. He’d always answer, they’d talk for a long time—you don’t do that if someone else is lying beside you. Oh, God, she thought. This isn’t happening to me. He can’t have had an affair! When the hell did I leave him alone long enough for an affair? We were on our phones all the time, checking in, working out schedules....
“Counseling,” she said to Kelly, giving her arm a pat. “Now wash your face and get a grip.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Email me those names?”
“Of course,” Gerri said. He’s going to fire her when he finds out about this. “Do me a favor, will you please? I invited Phil to lunch, but I had an emergency come up just as I got here and I have to handle something immediately. I was going to swing by the office and tell him myself, but I have to get moving. Please tell him we saw each other in the elevator and I’m sorry, I have to stand him up.”
“Oh, too bad,” she said.
“I have to rush, Kelly. Oh, and Kelly—don’t mention our talk to Phil. About...it’s a very sensitive subject.”
“Still?” Kelly asked as if surprised.
“I’m sure he’d like to keep all that private stuff from the rest of the office.”
She laughed. “Well, the gossip died off a long time ago—years ago.”
Years ago? Years ago? Years ago? Where was I? “Still,” Gerri said. “It is. At least for us.”
“I understand,” Kelly said.
“Good luck,” Gerri said, giving her one last squeeze. Then she almost ran out of the ladies’ room to the elevator, to the ground floor, to the parking garage, to the Golden Gate Bridge. She was in a trance of disbelief. The first thing she did was think of the many explanations he might come up with to make this all go away. Bullshit, he would say. When was that supposed to have happened? he would ask. That’s impossible! If there was talk about something like that, I didn’t know about it! I was always too goddamn busy with games and meets and concerts and meetings to fit in an affair! Where did you get something as nuts as this?
But it was a long drive back to Mill Valley and by the time she got there, she knew. It was true. He’d had an affair. His assistant had known about it as had others in the office. And she had not. Not even a whiff. He had pulled it off.
She didn’t go back to her office, she took the afternoon off and went home. She spent the entire time until the kids came home in the office she shared with Phil. They had a big home, one of the largest on the street. Their office and the master bedroom were on the ground floor, four bedrooms on the second floor, one for each kid and a guest room.
The office was nicely divided with a built-in desk running along three walls in a U-shape. They shared a computer, but each had their own laptops, as well, and bookshelves to the ceiling, plus two large walk-in closets—one for each of them that held their filing cabinets and shelves for supplies.
Gerri knew Phil’s password and opened his email. But if she knew his password, he wouldn’t save anything she could see, yet she looked through all the saved files, all the old emails. Nothing, of course there was nothing. And he certainly wouldn’t keep personal, incriminating files in the prosecutor’s office—it was a political job, constantly under scrutiny.
She spent a little time looking through hard files he brought home, but in no time at all she knew she wouldn’t find anything. There wouldn’t be any evidence.
Yet she knew. She knew.
