“I thought you were reviewing your notes,” Anne said, skipping right past thehello.
“I’ve gone over them twice already. What is it?” Sadie sounded worried as hell. “I know you. Your ‘fine’ is someone else’s catastrophe.”
Anne managed to resist the temptation to argue against that statement. “I think,” she said slowly, gathering her strength, “that I would appreciate having your help.”
“Help,” Sadie repeated. She sounded shocked. “Of course. I happen to be tremendous at helping. Won a blue ribbon for it in second grade, even. How can I be of assistance?”
“I want to throw out the wine in the fridge,” Anne blurted out. “I haven’t done it yet. But I want to.” Shame pressed against her chest. She felt like she was making a foundational concession to something bigger than herself, a force that had moved her in one direction for so long, she’d mistaken its hands for her own. She might as well have saidI’m weak.
Sadie drew in a long breath, and in that sound, Anne heard all the concern Sadie hadn’t voiced over the years, heavy and pained. “Are you throwing out the wine you keep in the pantry, too?”
Anne started. “The—what?”
“The other bottles you think I don’t know about.” It was tender, not accusatory.
Now the shame felt all-consuming. Anne swallowed her questions.How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything? Is this one of the reasons you aren’t sure you can commit to me?“I’ll donate those. Stone and Tide might take them.”
“So you—want to stop drinking.”
“For a little while, at least.” Anne could take it one day at a time. She didn’t have to commit the rest of her life to soberness right this second. “Just to see how I feel without it.”
“Are you sure?”
No, Anne wasn’t sure. If she actually stopped drinking, she’d lose her lifelong friend, her one pleasure. Somewhere inside her, a little voice still begged,Don’t take this away; it’s all I ever get to have.
But that wasn’t true. She remembered spinning under the desert sky with Sadie. The awed look on Brooke’s face when Anne had told her daughter how proud she was of her. The salty eruption of flavor from that Colossal Burger. The way James had seen her for the very first time. Arthur’s hug. Sadie’s soft, needy mouth on hers.
There were so many other pleasures.
“Anne?”
“I don’t want to be that person anymore,” she whispered.
“Then who do you want to be?”
No one had ever asked Anne that. She’d always been the same: a first-rate student, uncomplaining girlfriend, consummate wife, efficient mother, accomplished entertainer. The woman who’d kept her looks, despite time and gravity. The woman who proved her excellence to anyone watching. A terrible effort dressed up as perfect ease.
“I want to be enough,” she said finally.
“Oh, dear heart.” Sadie breathed. “That’s what I want for you, too. Look, should I come home? I can get a red-eye tomorrow night, after the campus visit’s over. The hell with taking time to think, if having me there would help you do this.”
That felt good to hear. Very, very good. And Anne considered it: Sadie, back in Anne’s home, the house briefly animated again with her sound and light and movement. The thought filled her with so much longing, she had to press her lips together to stop a small sound.
But that didn’t change the fact that Sadie still needed her space. The sooner she took it, the sooner she’d be able to give Anne an answer.
“I’ll be all right,” she said firmly. “Please focus on yourself. Figure out what you need. I’ll be here doing the same thing.”
“If you’re sure.” A strain of yearning in Sadie’s voice made Anne’s heart flutter. “Would you like me to stay on the phone with you while you pour out the wine?”
That, Anne could accept. “Yes. Please. I’d like that.”
“Anne?”
“Yes?” A slow bead of sweat traveled down between her breasts.
“There’s no shame,” Sadie said gently, “in being kind to yourself. There’s no shame in needing it.”
With her phone on the counter and Sadie on speaker, Anne got out the three bottles from the fridge, one by one, and placed them neatly in a row next to the farmhouse sink. When she uncorked the open bottle, the thick pop sounded like a dull, breathless protest.