She looks at him, uncertainty flashing through her golden eyes. He wonders if he should lean in and kiss her or if that will upset her, maybe make her think he is trying to distract her. He should have kissed her more, held her more. He vows that if she does take him back, he’ll kiss her slowly and passionately, every single day.
“Then answer me this: what were you doing in Tallahassee last week?”
Bobby feels his blood turn cold. How could she have known about that?
“I called the office,” Gina continues. “Ingrid told me you were there on a personal matter.”
Bobby feels a spike of irritation. How could Ingrid fail to let him know Gina had called? But now is not the time to get angry. Bobby squeezes Gina’s hand. “Do you remember Zofia?” he asks.
“Of course,” Gina says.
“Her mother died,” he says. “I went for the funeral.”
“But… why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t mean to not tell you.” Bobby drops his shoulders. “I know she doesn’t work for the company anymore, but I felt like I had to go.”
Gina nods. “Yeah, of course. I just wish I’d known, I would’ve sent her a note…” A pause. “I thought you were keeping something from me. I know that she…” Gina takes a deep breath before continuing, “that Eva is from Tallahassee.”
“Eva has been going into work every single day,” Bobby says. “She wasn’t in Tallahassee last week. I can show you the company logbook.”
Gina smiles sadly. “I feel silly.”
“Is this why you wouldn’t talk to me yesterday?” Bobby had left her a voicemail, but Gina had never called him back, which he found very odd. He had expected her to at least talk to him after the memo came out. It proved that his account was hacked, after all. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“I wanted to,” she says. “But first I had to figure out if I could forgive you.”
They sit in silence for a moment. Bobby wonders what else to say. He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he can’t tell her the whole truth, either. Not now. Maybe someday, once they’ve gotten past this hurdle. Once their love feels whole again.
“You said if I told you the truth then I could go home with you right now,” he begins. “Well, that was it. Can I please come home? Can we be us again?”
He takes her hand and holds it close to his heart, hoping she’ll be able to feel how much he loves her, how sorry he is for putting her through so much pain. How he’ll never again make another mistake, any mistake. From now on, he’ll be perfect. As perfect as she is.
And then he waits.
Thirty-Seven
Alice
Thursday, October 17th
Alice is standing by her open bedroom window.
The night air is chilly, crisp. A perfect fall night—but, to Alice, there’s nothing perfect about it. She has been listening in to Bobby and Gina’s conversation, one hand on the French window’s cold glass, another on her throat. She was sure Gina would turn Bobby down. Why had she been sure? This is Gina—of course she was going to blindly believe her husband. Of course she wasn’t going to stand by another woman.
The two of them are kissing now. Locked in a passionate embrace in the middle of Backer Street.
Alice sighs. Weeks of hard work gone down the drain. The inevitable events of the upcoming days unfold in her mind’s eye: Gina and Bobby getting back together, the town celebrating their reconciliation, Nick silently accepting his defeat. Alice would be stuck in Alma, a housewife forever. Eva Stone would continue to be disbelieved. Alma would continue to be frozen in time—#MeToo would never reach the town.
Nothing would change.
Unless…
It’s something Alice has thought of doing before. A rebellious act. One that might be construed as disloyal, possibly treacherous. Nick might not forgive her. That, more than anything, is what has kept her from going through with it. But what does it say about her feminism that she isn’t doing something because her husband wouldn’t approve? Believe women—it’s her mission, her battle cry. But it doesn’t seem like enough, to believe. Believing is a passive act. And real change—a revolution—requires action. Real action.
Support women. Defend women. These are Alice’s new and improved axioms.
Or she wants them to be, anyway.
Alice walks over to her dresser, opens her laptop, and begins writing the email.
Dear Eva,
I’m Alice Dewar, Bobby’s sister-in-law. I’m also friends with Antoinette Saison, whom I know has spoken with you confidentially. I am writing to offer you my support…
Thirty-Eight
Zofia
Thursday, October 17th
Dr. Woodward would like Zofia to attend a silent meditation retreat. Zofia knows this because Dr. Woodward has handed her a brochure that reads Tallahassee Om Center’s Silent Meditation Retreat and features the usual assortment of information that one would typically expect to encounter in a leaflet printed in subpar parchment: Om symbol, image of a sleepy Buddha, copy that will likely appeal to those in need of silence. Zofia does not fit into this category of people since she already fulfills her need for silence through rigorous self-discipline. Zofia’s overall disposition has improved considerably since she stopped speaking, to the point where Zofia suspects that if she had been raised by Tibetan monks, she never would’ve suffered from anxiety in the first place. Zofia has shared this theory with Dr. Woodward, a disclosure which might have inadvertently triggered the well-intentioned but ultimately injudicious suggestion that Zofia spend her hard-earned dollars to achieve what she already has. Now Dr. Woodward is looking at her expectantly, as though expecting praise for his frivolous idea. Zofia has decided to spend today’s session is total silence, a decision she would’ve carried out until the very end if it weren’t for Dr. Woodward’s surprising statement: I’ve already called and made a reservation for you for the week of October 27th until November 3rd. All expenses are
