I didn't answer. The honest response would have frightened me as much as it might have frightened her. But after she went upstairs I opened the filing cabinet and looked at Alana's business card. For the first time I didn't feel ashamed of having it.
I called Alana the following afternoon and said I might need to begin the divorce process. She told me which documents would help and reminded me not to make legal decisions in the heat of an argument. I understood. What I didn't know was that two evenings later, Natalie would make the choice she thought belonged only to her, and she would be shocked to discover I was capable of making one too.
That Friday began so ordinarily that for most of the day I didn't suspect it would become the dividing line of my life. I left the hospital a little after five, stopped at the grocery store, and bought chicken, potatoes, fresh lemons, and a carton of the ice cream Natalie liked. I'd been thinking about our canceled counseling appointment and had decided to ask whether she'd be willing to reschedule it. I didn't expect a miracle. I only wanted one evening in which we spoke honestly without treating each other like opponents.
When I pulled into the driveway, her car was already home. Music came from upstairs. I carried the groceries in, found Pepper asleep on the dining chair, and began dinner while I listened to Natalie moving around the bedroom. The house felt pleasantly familiar for almost an hour, and I let myself imagine we might have a calm conversation after we ate.
At six thirty I called upstairs that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes. She answered that she wasn't eating at home. I asked whether something had come up at work, and she appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a black dress I'd never seen before. A silver bracelet flashed at her wrist, and she was holding a pair of high heels in one hand.
"I'm going to Halcyon with some people," she said. "Don't wait up."
I set the spoon beside the stove and looked at her. "Since when?"
"We've been talking about it all week."
"You and I haven't."
She sighed. "Randy, I am not doing this tonight."
I asked her to come downstairs for a moment because I didn't want us shouting between floors. She came down, clearly annoyed, and stood beside the kitchen island while I turned off the burner. The chicken needed five more minutes, but I suddenly couldn't bear the smell of the food I'd planned for two people who hadn't agreed to spend an evening together.
"I don't have a problem with you seeing your friends," I said. "I have a problem with finding out about your plans after you've already made them, and with every question becoming an accusation. I need to know whether we still want to work on this marriage."
"There you go again."
"I'm asking you a serious question, Natalie."
"And I'm telling you I'm tired of answering it. I can't keep proving myself every time I go out."