I brought Helen home to The Boulders. It wasn’t until we were walking arm in arm around the lovely grounds of the estate that I felt my body soften a bit, the entire place unfurling green and fragrant around us in the late-summer afternoon. Helen was all easy chatter at my side, her voice familiar as she marveled at the stables and insisted on a round of golf. On Saturday afternoon we took a picnic hamper and blankets to the beach, where we swam and collected shells, watching the waves bob almost until sunset.
But it was on Sunday, over breakfast, that Helen reached for my hand across the table and fixed me with a serious expression. “Now, Mrs. Close.”
I could tell by her voice that my friend was not going to let me slip out of whatever it was she intended to discuss. Perhaps I’d even been bracing for it all weekend, ever since I’d seen her step onto the train platform. But I tried to keep my own tone light as I replied, “Now, Helen.”
“My train departs in a few hours.”
My shoulders slumped. “I wish you could stay longer.”
“I know, dear. And I was sorry to miss that husband of yours.”
I turned my focus down toward my breakfast, stirring my bowl of cereal in a slow circle. Ed would be back later that evening.
“I’m just delighted that I got to see this beautiful home.” Helen took a sip of her tea. “If my parents only knew—they’d be even more glum over my old-maid status.”
I nodded, forced out a laugh. My home was indeed lovely; on that I could agree.
“But there’s something that I simply cannot sort out,” Helen said, her eyes boring into my face, even if I was avoiding her stare. She went on: “And that is…why aren’t you happy?”
Now I met her gaze, my spoon falling to the table. Helen shrugged, gesturing around the room with a wave of her hand. “Your home is the tops. You’re married to the man you love. Together you have just about anything a pair of honeymooners could ever ask for. Why…why don’t I feel like you are yourself?”
At that, my resolve unraveled. “Oh, Helen.” I folded over the table, the hot tears coming unbidden to my eyes. “It’s not…it’s not all as grand as you think.”
“That I can see, dearest. Oh, don’t cry. Now you’re making me weepy.” She squeezed my hand. “But whatever is the matter?”
“It’s…it’s Ed. And me, too. He…there’s such a distance between us. All he ever wants to do is go out. But not with me—with his friends. And every week…he just…I don’t know…” I couldn’t bring myself to say more aloud, to give words to the true depth of my disapproval and disappointment. Of how lonely and out of place I felt in his world. But Helen’s eyes traveled toward the liquor cart in the corner of the room. We had these carts stocked in nearly every room of the ground floor, and in the bedrooms as well.
“You know, my dear,” Helen said after a pause, folding her napkin and placing it gently on the table before her, “the two of you came into this marriage from wildly different backgrounds.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said, my tone wry, even as I tried to fight back more tears.
“And the drinking…” Helen said, her eyes filling with warmth. I was so grateful to her for knowing me—for saying aloud what I myself hadn’t been able to. She went on: “It’s simply a part of his lifestyle. It’s just the way these gentlemen are; they tip the bottles. They’re social, you know. And you’re not accustomed to it. But the two of you will figure out your own way.”
“Helen, the drinking. I can’t see how I’ll ever grow accustomed to it.”
“There, there, dear. He’s young. His friends move in a fast set. But it’s not like he’s a bad sort. It’s all in good fun. You’ll get used to it in time, trust me. It’s the same in Newport.”
“It was not like that in Battle Creek.”
“Naturally. But you’re in Greenwich, my dear.”
“As if I need to be reminded.”
“Marjorie, my darling, the two of you are fresh off the starting block. In time, he’ll settle. You’ll see. And remember, you catch more bees with honey. If you keep things happy on the home front, that husband of yours will come to realize, in time, that he doesn’t need to step out every night. It’s an adjustment period, is all.”
I frowned, and yet I nodded, taking in my friend’s advice. Helen, after all, had grown up in a world much closer to the one Ed and I now occupied than I had. Perhaps I did simply need to give us time. It was worth a try. And really, what other choice did I have?