JENNIE
Back at the house, I check the poolside to see if Lisa is still there but of course, she's long gone. It's weird that I feel a little disappointed that our conversation was so short-lived, so I ignore the strange flutter in my core and try to think about something else. She only came in to service my pool, and I shouldn't be so interested in her.
"Are you looking for something?" I turn to find Nola behind me.
"No, I'm not." Heat rises to my cheeks and I feel caught out, even though I'm on my own property and I've done nothing wrong. "Sorry I didn't have much time to chat this morning. Did you have a nice weekend?"
"It was good," she says. "I worked Saturday morning… for him who shall not be mentioned, but otherwise I just relaxed with my family."
"Great. How are the kids?" I refrain from asking about Mark and Yeji today. It's getting old, and I'm aware that I've started to come across like some desperate ex-wife who can't let go. Besides, I don't want Nola to feel like she has to pick sides; she worked for Yeji before I hired her.
Nola gives me a small smile, as if she's aware that questions are burning on my tongue. "They're unhelpful and difficult mostly," she jokes. "Jack stayed in bed the whole day yesterday and Filipa came home drunk in the early hours after clubbing on Saturday night, but at least they didn't get themselves in any serious trouble. Not as far as I know anyway."
I laugh and let go of my gym bag when she takes it from me. "They're just teenagers. Don't worry; it will pass."
"If you say so." Nola props the bag under her arm. "There was some serious drama with Mark and Yeji on Saturday, though," she adds, narrowing her eyes at me.
"Oh, really?" I arch a brow, drawing the words out slowly.
"Yes." Nola's expression turns serious, and she takes my hand. "Promise this will remain a secret between you and me?"
"Of course." I mean it; I love Nola and I'd never betray her trust or put her job in jeopardy. However, it's also peculiar that she's the second person to confide in me today.
"Okay." Nola bites her lip, clearly bursting to get it out. "This might upset you..."
"Please, just say it." I raise myself onto the kitchen counter because I have a feeling I'd better be sitting down for what's about to come. "Have they split up?"
"No, it's worse than that. Yeji is pregnant," she says dramatically.
"Pregnant?"
"Yes, she's pregnant. And Mark is not happy because he's always told her he doesn't want any more kids." She points to her ear. "I never eavesdrop, but at the same time, I hear everything, whether I want to or not. I'm invisible in most households."
"Fuck…" I take a moment to let the information sink in. My ex-husband got his younger girlfriend pregnant. Nola's eyes meet mine, and she looks sorry for me. She always told me this was just a phase, that Mark and I would get back together. "I assume she's keeping the baby?"
"Yes. She was toward the end of her first trimester by the time she told him and even if she wasn't, she's wanted to be a mother for as long as I've worked for her."
"Wow. Okay. And Mark wasn't initially onboard?"
"No. But he'll come around. He has no choice."
"So, they're having a baby…"
"Yes." Nola grimaces, fearful she's upset me. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. I just didn't see this coming." I let out the breath I've been holding and rub my face.
"I don't think anyone did." Nola lowers her voice. "Apart from Yeji. She hasn't been taking her pill. I clean the bedroom and the same strip has been sitting on her nightstand for the past six months."
"Jesus." My voice goes up a notch. "So she planned this…"
"I believe so." Nola shrugs. "Anyway, I didn't mean to upset you, I just thought you should know."
I try to analyze how I feel about this and truthfully, it's a slap in the face. The love of my life is starting over, doing the exact thing I thought he'd never do with anyone else; starting a family. Family is everything to me and my only consolation when Mark left me, was that he would only ever have one family, and I would always be part of that unit. It was something sacred between us that we'd created. Now, he's going to have another one, like it's no different from buying a new car or a house, planned or not. "Thank you, I appreciate you telling me. My lips are sealed."
Nola nods, then goes to work unpacking my bag. She throws the towel, my yoga pants and tank top on the floor on top of a pile of dirty dishcloths and pulls out my water bottle to empty. "I saw there was a new pool lady in this morning," she says, changing the subject.
"Yes. Lisa. She seems nice." I quickly take the bag back from her, so she won't find the business card in the side compartment.
"Oh." Nola sounds surprised that I know her name and I don't blame her. I've probably referred to Barry as Larry on a couple of occasions and I can't for the life of me remember what the gardeners are called as the agency rotates different ones. "She dropped by before she left. She said everything was fine and she's going to replace the sand in the filter on Friday. Apparently, it's been a while."
"Yes, it has." Truthfully, I have no idea when the sand was last replaced, just like I have no idea about anything household related. God help me, I barely know where the washer is. "Did she say it was going to be a big job? I don't remember how long it took last spring."
"She didn't say, but it will take a couple of hours, probably." Nola looks up. "Why? Is Friday not convenient? I can call them and ask her to come another day, or—"
"No, it's fine," I interrupt her. "Just curious, that's all." Gesturing toward the staircase, I say: "Well, I'm going to take a bath. I'll be back down in a while if you want to have a coffee with me."
I take off my clothes and run myself a hot bath. The master bathroom is stripped bare of clutter and is completely white. Two egg-shaped sinks with long mirrors and two deep, walk-in rain showers take up the corners of the square space, and a huge, oval-shaped tub is placed under the window facing the pool. In the middle is a divider with clothing hooks and marble dressing benches to both sides. I thought long and hard about how to make it a stylish and functional family bathroom, but now it feels more like a fancy dressing room in a private members gym—sterile and lacking in warmth—rather than the cool beach vibe I was going for. Mark was the mastermind behind our impressive house. He designed this mid-century inspired villa overlooking the Atlantic. But I was the homemaker, and I took that role very seriously. Obviously, I wasn't nearly as good with interior design as his new flame who made our living room look stunning, but I did my best. I was a good mother, a good wife, I excelled at entertaining but that wasn't good enough for him and he's moved on in the most dramatic of ways. Maybe it's time for me to move on too. I'd convinced myself I had, but this news hurts and has dug up painful memories.
As I let myself sink back against the cushioned headrest, I close my eyes and replay my conversation with Chahee. I can hardly believe she envies me for my situation. Should I really be grateful for the opportunity to start over? And if so, where the fuck do I start? Is hiring an escort not a little seedy? Isn't it wrong? Could I? I don't think so. What would I say if my children ever found out? I've had fantasies about sex with other partners, sure. In fact, I've had many, but never about paid sex, and this scenario seems extreme. If I could have anything, what would it be? Lisa's smile flashes before me and I shake it off with a groan.
Before I met Mark, before I got pregnant and had a shotgun wedding, before I was a mother, I was a different person with a different lifestyle. I was a college student living in a nice apartment in Manhattan—courtesy of my wealthy parents who moved back to Beirut when I was seventeen. They thought my chances of succeeding as a woman would be better in the US, so they left me with a dual nationality and a housekeeper who no doubt reported back on my every move, but she was kind and caring, and I didn't mind being on my own. I flourished then; I was inspired to make a successful career for myself, to have a full life. Photography was my passion, and my dream was to study photography at Yale. The applications were ready and perfected long before I could submit them; they were neatly tucked away in my desk drawer, waiting for the day I graduated high school. I partied a lot, had crushes on both men and women, but I never acted on those crushes, and I never fell into the vicious circle of alcohol and drugs. I made good choices. If a 'Lisa' had shown interest in me back then, I probably would have turned her down because of my upbringing. Because I was taught that it was wrong. This was only twenty-two years ago, but it feels like a lifetime.
And then Mark asked me out one day. He was a smart, charismatic and handsome architecture student, and I couldn't find a reason to say no, so I said yes. One date led to another and then, boom. Ten weeks later I was pregnant. It was a shock to both of us as we'd used contraception. Our parents pushed us into marriage, so we tied the knot before James was born and even now, knowing we were way too young for such a serious life, I don't regret anything. Having James, and five years later Ella, truly made me feel whole as a person.
My parents bought us a lovely townhouse in Brooklyn, I became a stay-at-home mom and when Mark got his masters and started working, we were a fairly wealthy family. Once he'd made a name for himself and started his own company, we became what most people would consider to be 'rich'.
And now, here I am, only thirty-nine and I have no purpose. Already, I feel like I've lived a whole life, yet nothing is left of it. We sold our house in New York and the Hamptons house was put in my name after the divorce. My father left me a lot of money when he passed away five years ago, so if I'm sensible, I won't have to worry about my finances ever again. But I need something to focus on, something that defines me as a person. Something to pour my heart and soul into the way I did when I was bringing up our family. Something to keep my mind from wandering back to my broken marriage and the happy couple expecting a baby. Because without it, who am I?