They pulled into Crosby at almost five-thirty, and as William drove down Main Street to Bob’s home, Bob saw more cars than usual parked along the road. And then he saw two congregants of Margaret’s hurrying into his house. “Oh fuck,” he said quietly.
William pulled into the driveway and said, taking his sunglasses off, “What?”
Bob said, “Is this a surprise party for me?”
William sighed. “It is. Now you go in there and act surprised.”
“I have to go in there and act surprised?”
William tapped him on the arm. “You do and you can. Pretend. Just pretend.”
*
Bob felt Lucy’s presence as soon as he stepped inside the room—and then he saw her, far off, standing on the first step of the staircase in the living room, and they looked at each other for a moment. To Bob, for the rest of his life, it was one of the most intimate moments he had ever experienced, because in the glance he was saying to her pained face: You’re here, and that is all that matters, and her glance said, Bob, I’m right here, do not ever worry about that. And there was a finality in their glance as well, he saw that in her. That whatever they had shared was not over but would be different from now on.
Turning to the room filled with people, Bob said, “Whoa! What’s going on here?” He hugged Margaret, who said, “Were you surprised?” “Was I ever,” he said, and he waved to all those who had come into his home, he was deeply moved by all the people who had come to celebrate his birthday, Jim and Susie and—oh sweet God—Gerry O’Hare (he and Susie were holding hands!) and many other people he knew, including Katherine Caskey and her husband. He walked through the group greeting them all, a few men putting their hands on his shoulders as he said hello.
And Pam! She walked out of the bathroom—without a mask on—and said, “Bobby!”
He was so glad to see her; he thought she looked wonderful and he told her so. Then he said, “What’s happening with you? Did you leave Ted?”
“Bob.” Pam looked at him with her eyes wide. (He saw that on one eye the eyeliner was a little above where it should have been, the way he had seen on old women in New York at times.) She leaned her head in toward him and spoke quietly, confidentially, “Bob, he cried when I told him we should separate. He sat there and wept like a baby. Bob!” She pulled back and looked at him.
“Jesus,” Bob said.
“I guess to hell Jesus,” Pam answered; he saw that she was drinking sparkling water.
“So what are you going to do?” Bob asked.
Pam shook her head. “I have no idea. No idea at all. But honestly? I think I might stay. We just started couples therapy—after all these years.”
Bob felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and pulling it out he saw that it was Matt. He said to Pam, “Hold on, so sorry—”
“That Matt?” Pam asked, having glanced at Bob’s phone. “Take it, Bob.”
So Bob stepped out into the hallway and he said, “Matt?”
“Yeah. Something happened today I wanted to tell you about. But I know you’re having your birthday party, Margaret invited me, except I didn’t want to come.”
“That’s okay, tell me what happened today,” Bob said, just as a woman he didn’t recognize approached him and said, “Where’s the bathroom?” Bob pointed back to where she had come from, and she went back inside.
“Were you surprised?” Matt asked, and Bob said, “No, but I pretended I was.”
“Awkward,” said Matt.
“Tell me what happened to you today,” Bob said.
What had happened to Matt was that he had asked this woman he had mentioned before, who had written to him kindly, he had asked her out to dinner. For tomorrow.
“I don’t think you have anything to lose if she sounded nice. Did you google her?”
“No, good thinking. Okay, go back to your party now, Bob. I’ll talk to you soon.”
*
Margaret took a knife and clanked it against her glass, and in a moment the room quieted down. She looked around at the people gathered there and she thanked them all for coming. Then she said, “I would like to toast my husband, the one and only Bob Burgess. There is no one in the world like Bob.” She turned to Bob and said, “Happy birthday, Bob, I love you!” And she kissed him, putting her arms around him. People said, “Hear, hear,” and Bob said, “Thank you all for coming,” holding up his own glass.
But then half an hour later, William clanked his glass, and when people stopped talking, he said, “Lucy and I have an announcement. We’re getting married again!” He held her hand and raised it in the air. People said things like “Oh, that’s nice,” and yet there was a slight awkwardness to it all, so Bob raised his glass and said, “To William and Lucy!” And a few people clapped then.
—
Jim motioned for Bob to step into the hallway, and Bob did. “So what’s the story with you guys?” He nodded his head back to where Lucy stood in the living room.
“No story anymore.”
Jim looked at him, Bob saw his brother look at his whole head. “Maybe it was your haircut,” Jim said. And Bob said, “The truth is, I’m relieved. Sad. Super sad sometimes. But relieved.”
“As long as you’re all right.”
“I’m okay,” Bob said.
“I can see why you liked her. She looks like a scared rabbit, but when she talks to you, she’s really listening.” After a moment Jim added, “But it’s not you, Bobby, to have an affair. It would have killed you. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m okay enough,” Bob said. And Jim said, “Well—yeah. She just announced her marriage. How okay could you be?”
Then Jim pulled an envelope from his pocket. “Look what I received in the mail the other day.” He unfolded the letter that was inside the envelope, and Bob put on his glasses and read “Dear Dad,” and then the page was empty except for at the bottom where it was signed, “Love, Larry.”
“That’s about as good as it gets,” Bob said.
