lawyer.”
“Yes, and it would look unseemly for her wife to be sporting a two-carat diamond engagement ring. Bought on the proceeds of other people’s failed marriages,” I say.
Nedra gives me a dirty look.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Look, Alice, it’s as simple as this. I’ve found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And she’s passed the spectacular test.”
“The spectacular test?”
“When I first met Kate she was spectacular. And a decade later she is still the most spectacular woman I’ve ever known. Besides you, of course. Don’t you feel that way about William?”
I want to feel that way about William.
“Well, why shouldn’t I have what you have?” Nedra asks.
“You should. Of course you should. It’s just that everything in your life is changing so fast. I can’t keep up. And now you’re getting married.”
“Alice.” Nedra puts her arm around me. “This isn’t going to change anything between us. We’ll always be best friends. I hate married people who say ridiculous things like ‘I married my best friend.’ Is there any clearer path to a sexless marriage? That won’t be me. I am marrying my lover.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I squeak. “And your lu-va. It’s just super-terrific news.”
Nedra frowns. “Things will get better with William. You’re just going through a rough patch. Ride it out, darling. Good things are ahead. I promise you. Let me ask you something. Why don’t you want to be my maid of honor? Is it the word
No. I have absolutely no problem with
“May I see the emerald ring?” asks Nedra.
“Lovely choice. Emeralds are a symbol of hope and faith,” says the saleswoman, handing her the ring.
“Ah-” says Nedra. “It’s bloody gorgeous. Here, Alice, try it on.”
She slides the ring onto my finger.
“That looks stunning on you,” says the saleswoman.
“What do you think?” Nedra asks.
I think the gleaming green stone looks like it was flown by hot-air balloon directly from Oz to Oakland, and it’s the perfect symbol of Nedra’s sparkling life.
“Spectacular Kate will love it,” I sniff.
“But do you love it?” asks Nedra.
“Why does it matter if I love it?”
Nedra pulls the ring off my finger and hands it back to the saleswoman with a sigh.
Watching my best friend read my private emails and Facebook chats is not typically an activity I indulge in. But for the last half hour, that’s precisely what I’ve been doing. I’ve finally confided in Nedra about Researcher 101 and judging by the look of contempt on her face, I’m starting to think this was a very bad idea.
Nedra flings my cellphone across the kitchen table.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
“What the hell are you doing, Alice?”
“I can’t help it. You read them. Our chats are like a drug. I’m addicted.”
“He is witty, I’ll give him that, but you’re married! Married as in ‘I will love you and only you until the end of my days.’ ”
“I know. I’m a terrible wife. That’s why I told you. You have to tell me what to do.”
“Well, that’s easy. You have to sever all ties with him. Nothing’s happened yet. You haven’t crossed any line except in your mind. Just stop chatting with him.”
“I can’t just stop,” I say, horrified. “He’ll worry. He’ll think something’s happened to me.”
“Something
“I don’t think I can do that. Just quit the study without saying anything.”
“You must,” says Nedra. “Now, I’m not a prude, you know that. I think a little bit of flirting is good for a marriage, as long as you redirect that sexual energy back into your relationship, but you’ve gone way beyond the flirting stage.”
She picks up my phone and scrolls through my chats. “ ‘A war in which one side of him thinks he may be crossing a line, and the other side of him thinks it’s a line that was begging to be crossed.’ Alice, this isn’t innocent anymore.”
Hearing her read Researcher 101’s words out loud makes me shudder-
in a good way. And although I know Nedra is absolutely right, I also know I’m not capable of letting him go. At least not yet. Not without a proper goodbye. Or finding out his intentions-if he has intentions, that is.
“You’re right,” I lie. “You’re absolutely right.”
“Good,” says Nedra, softening. “So you’ll stop chatting with him? You’ll quit the study?”
“Yes,” I say, my eyes filling with tears.
“Oh, Alice, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“It’s just that I was lonely. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until we started emailing. He listens to me. He asks me things. Important things, and what I say matters,” I say, suddenly sobbing.
Nedra reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Darling, here are the facts. Yes, William is an idiot sometimes. Yes, he’s flawed. Yes, the two of you may be going through a dry spell. But this-” she picks up my phone and shakes it. “This isn’t real. You know that, don’t you?”
I nod.
“So do you want me to refer you to a great couples counselor? She’s wonderful. She’s actually helped some of my clients get back together.”
“You send your clients to a couples counselor?”
“When I think there’s something worth saving, yes.”
Later that afternoon, when I’m sitting in the school bleachers pretending I’m watching Zoe play volleyball (every five minutes I shout out “Go Trojans,” and she glances up in the bleachers and gives me a withering look), I think about William and me. Some of the blame for my emotional straying has to fall on him; his being so uncommunicative. I want to be with somebody who listens to me. Who says,
“Hi, Alice.” Jude plops down beside me. “Zo’s playing well.”
I watch him watching Zoe and can’t help but feel a little jealous. It’s been so long since I’ve been gazed at like that. I remember the feeling as a teenager. The absolute surety that the boy was not in control of his gaze-that I was, simply by existing. No words needed to be spoken. A gaze like that needed no translation. Its meaning was obvious.
“You’ve got to stop stalking her, Jude.”
“Tic Tac?” He shakes three mints into the palm of my hand. “I can’t help it,” he says.
Didn’t I just say the same thing to his mother not more than an hour ago?
“Jude, sweetheart, I’ve known you since you were a toddler, so trust me that this is said with love. Move the hell on.”
“I wish I could,” he says.
Zoe looks up into the bleachers and her mouth drops open when she sees the two of us together.
I leap to my feet. “Go Trojans! Go Zoe! Nice spike!” I shout.
“She’s a setter, not a spiker,” says Jude.
“Nice set, Zoe!” I shout, sitting down.
Jude snorts.
“She’s going to kill me,” I say.
“Yep,” says Jude, as Zoe’s cheeks flush pink with embarrassment.
