The House

“I was alone when I was with you, Phil,” Sarah said quietly. “Now I'll only be by myself. Thanks for everything,” she said, and without hearing what he had to say in answer, she hung up. He didn't call her back. He tried a few more times that night, after she plugged her phone in again, and this time she had unplugged her message machine, she didn't want to hear his voice ever again. It really was over. She shed a few tears over him that night, and tried to get the awful scene of the night before out of her head. Her keys came back to her by messenger the next morning. He sent them to the apartment. It was Saturday morning. He had included a note saying that he was there for her, anytime she wanted to call him, and he hoped she would. She threw the note away after glancing at it, and packed up the things he had left there. There weren't many, toiletries, some jeans, underwear, shirts, a pair of Nikes, flip-flops, and loafers. A leather jacket he left there for weekends. She realized as she packed his things that he had been more fantasy in her life than real. He was the embodiment of hope, and the culmination of her own neurosis, her terror of being alone, and abandoned by a man, as she had been by her father. So she put up with the crumbs he gave her, and never demanded more. She asked for it, but was willing to tolerate it when he gave her less than she deserved. And on top of it, he was cheating on her. He had done her a huge favor the night he went to bed with the young blonde. She was actually surprised to discover that she didn't feel as bad as she had feared she would after the breakup. By late that afternoon, she was at the house, hammering away on the bookcase. She thought the hammering would do her good, and it did. She didn't even hear the doorbell ring at first, and when she did finally, she was afraid that it was Phil. She peered downstairs cautiously, from a second-floor window, and saw that it was Jeff. She ran down the grand staircase to the front door to let him in.

“Hi,” he said easily. “I saw your car in the driveway and thought I'd stop in for a minute.” He noticed that she looked distracted and observed her more closely. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she reassured him, but didn't look it. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He could see it in her eyes.

“Tough week at the office?”

“Yeah. More or less.” He followed her back upstairs and checked her work on the bookcase. It was surprisingly good for an amateur. She was diligent in her work. Her eyes met his then, and he smiled at her.

“What's up, Sarah? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but something's wrong.” She nodded, but didn't cry.

“I broke up with Phil two days ago. Long overdue.” She set down the hammer for a minute and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“What happened? Big fight when he got back from Aspen?”

“Not really,” she said quietly. “I walked in on him with another woman. That was a novel experience. Something new and different.” She said it in a monotone, and considering that, Jeff thought she looked pretty good.

“Wow!” he whistled. “That must have been unpleasant.”

“It was. I looked like an idiot. She looked like a whore. And he looked like a total asshole. Maybe he's been doing that all along. I threw his keys on the floor and walked out. I sent back his stuff this morning. He's been calling like crazy.”

“You really think it's over, or do you think you'll take him back?” Marie-Louise had cheated on him years before, and he had relented when she came back and begged him to forgive her. Afterward he was sorry he had. She had done it again. But never after. That time he had put his foot down. They'd been through a lot in fourteen years.

“No, I won't take him back,” Sarah said sadly. She was sadder about the fool she'd been for so long than about losing him. “I'm finished. I should have been a long time ago. He's a jerk. And a liar and a cheat. All those nice things.”

“He won't let you go that easily,” Jeff predicted.

“Maybe not. But I have. I could never forgive him. It was a disgusting scene. I was about to climb into his bed to surprise him, when I discovered someone else already had. I've never felt so stupid in my life, or been so shocked. I thought I'd have a heart attack when I left. Anyway, it's over, and here I am, back at work on the house. Brave new world. I can hardly wait to move in,” she said, changing the subject, and he nodded. He got the drift. He was curious to see if she would stay away from Phil. She sounded very firm about it now. But it had only been two days since the unhappy event. It sounded awful to him, as it had been.

“When do you think you'll be able to move in?”

“I don't know. What do you think?” The electrical work was starting the following week, the plumbing the week after. There would be crews all over the house for months. They weren't starting on the kitchen till February or March, when the other work was done or at least well under way.