“Reba?” Seth coaxed.
“I’ll come.” Such a little thing. She had no right to be this happy.
Chapter 22
You have to wonder about humans. They think God is dead and Elvis is alive.
—Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy, personal friends of Mrs. Miracle
The irony of it was that Sharon had gotten along with Jerry better in the last several days, since they’d agreed to a divorce, than in the previous twelve months. She sat next to him in the movie theater and forced her attention back to the screen. Agent 007 was back in action. James Bond had returned to save the world from the latest fiend.
She reached for a handful of popcorn, and Jerry angled the bucket toward her, granting her easy access to the buttery-topped kernels. A time not so long ago and they wouldn’t have been able to agree on which movie, which theater, what night, or anything else. She wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed it this time. It was as though the decision to separate had freed them, and they could once more return to the congenial couple they’d once been.
The temptation was to forget the troubles of the past and enjoy this newfound accord, but Sharon knew this “honeymoon” wouldn’t last. They’d agreed to make the best of it until after Christmas—it made sense not to ruin the children’s holidays with the distressing news of their failed marriage.
The action-packed movie involved almost everyone else in the theater, but Sharon had a difficult time keeping her thoughts on the characters on the screen.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With the two of them sitting in a movie theater as if nothing were amiss, as if they were as deeply in love as the day they’d married. Or more so.
The heavy weight of her failure pressed down on her, until she felt as if she were slowly being lowered into a pit of despair. So many questions remained unanswered. Sharon wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself. Or where she’d live. Or even what she’d tell her friends.
In retrospect, she wished she’d paid more attention to what other women she’d known had done following their divorces. As far as she could remember, few, if any, had turned out to be friendly divorces. They’d all started out that way, but somewhere along the line animosity had taken control. It was all so terribly depressing to see what could happen between two people who’d once professed to love each other. Soon it would be happening to her and Jerry.
The movie credits started to roll across the large white screen and Sharon realized, with some surprise, that the film was over. She hadn’t realized how close the plot was to the end, which was a bit like her marriage, she mused. The credits were about to scroll down the once white screen of her life with Jerry.
“Whatever happened to Anita Perkins?” Sharon asked her husband. Jerry wore a puzzled look as he stood and led the way out of the theater. Anita and her husband had been Elk members, and Earl had routinely played golf with Jerry. A couple of years back they’d divorced, and now Sharon couldn’t recall what had become of her friend.
“I don’t know,” Jerry admitted.
“Don’t you see Earl anymore?”
“No.” Her husband frowned and shook his head. “I can’t say that I do. It must be six months or longer since he was out at the golf course. He just drifted away.” He paused and then asked, “What about Anita?”
Sharon shrugged. “The last I heard she’d moved to Oregon to be closer to her daughter.”
They remained unnaturally quiet as they made their way out toward the parking lot. Seth had loaned Jerry the family car. They were both sitting inside, the engine running and the defroster blasting hot air against the windshield, before Jerry spoke again.
“It won’t be that way with us.”
Sharon prayed he was right, but life held few guarantees. “What went wrong with Anita and Earl?” she asked, thinking Jerry might have some insight to share, something that would help see them through this difficult time.
Jerry shrugged. “Earl never said. What about Anita?”
“Not much, just that they’d grown apart the last few years.”
“The same as us, then.” For the first time since she’d mentioned divorce, a note of sadness entered Jerry’s voice. “Like I said earlier, it’ll be different with us. We’ll make it different.”
Sharon knew he believed that now. But once the attorneys started casting accusations and blame like poison darts, they’d react the same way their friends had, and all their good intentions would get tossed out the proverbial window. Despite their talk about making this a friendly divorce, it would eventually turn into something ugly, the same as it had with other couples they’d known. By nature the dissolution of marriage was ugly and painful.