A Good Marriage(28)

Amanda smiled. “I’ll definitely come. Thank you.”

“Have you heard how Maude and Sebe met?” Sarah asked Amanda.

“No,” Amanda said, turning to look at Maude.

“This is me trying to redeem myself for debasing their marriage with my unseemly voyeurism,” Sarah said. “It is the most romantic story ever.”

“How did you meet?” Amanda asked.

“It is a good story,” Maude said, looking wistful. “I was getting my master’s degree in art history at Columbia, and I was at a party. Out of nowhere I collapsed, knocked my head into a bookcase, and spilled drinks everywhere. It looked, of course, like I was drunk, but I was stone-cold sober.”

“And Sebe rescued her,” Sarah said, making a moony face. “Looking like he does and with that accent, he picked her up and carried her in his strong arms like a bride all the way to Columbia-Presbyterian, where he happened to be an intern. He saved her life.”

“Sebe did not save my life,” Maude said. “But he did get me to the hospital. And he did carry me to a cab. He also got me seen right away.”

“And you were okay?” Amanda asked.

“I’m diabetic, it turns out. Probably had been my whole life, but I’d somehow never realized. It’s manageable now.”

“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Sarah said dreamily.

“Wow,” Amanda said, feeling unaccountably sad. “That is romantic.”

“Right?” Sarah chimed in. “You should tell that story more, Maude, but leave in the part about Sebe maybe being a start-up billionaire soon. I’d flap it around like a flag if I were you.”

“I don’t know. Sebe and I have been fighting so much these days.” Maude looked off into the distance. “That story barely feels like it belongs to us anymore.”

“Fighting?” Sarah asked. “You and Sebe never fight.”

“I know. It’s all this stuff with Sophia,” she said. “Sebe loves her, but he is so free-range. It’s that European thing. As far as he’s concerned, our daughter might as well be an adult. But she’s my baby. I don’t care how old she gets; I will always want to make her problems go away. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

Sarah opened her lips, but her mouth shut immediately when Maude held up a cautionary hand. “Not tonight. Okay, Sarah?”

“Teenagers. That was all I was going to say,” Sarah insisted. “They really do ruin everything. What about you and Zach, Amanda? How did you two meet? I have to be honest, you seem very … different.”

“I was working for the summer as a housekeeper at a hotel in upstate New York,” Amanda began. Over the years, she had perfected the story to make it more palatable. Housekeeper was better than maid, she’d learned. Hotel better than motel. But most important had been the insertion of the word summer. It avoided the raised eyebrows and pursed lips that followed confessing she was a high-school dropout. “Zach stopped in the hotel while he was hiking in the Adirondacks before moving to California.”

“California?” Sarah asked. “Did you guys start dating long-distance?”

“Oh, no, when he checked out, I went with him,” Amanda said.

“Right after you met him?” Sarah asked.

Shoot. She didn’t usually include that part. Why today?

“I mean, not right that second. But not long after.”

“Love at first sight.” Maude smiled. “The most romantic kind.”

“Hmm.” Sarah eyed Amanda doubtfully but seemed to decide to leave it alone. “Well, all I know is that Zach had better be coming to Kerry’s birthday dinner. Because I have not spoken more than five words to him, even though he is my boss.”

“He’s not your boss,” Amanda said.

“Sure he is!” Sarah said. “It’s his foundation. I work for you, too, obviously. And I’m fine with both, believe me. But Zach needs to make himself available. You are one of my closest friends. He needs to come into the fold.”

Amanda forced a bright smile. One of Sarah’s closest friends. She wanted to be that. “He’ll be there.”

That was a lie, of course. Zach wouldn’t come. Sarah meant well, but Amanda had made clear his schedule was very demanding. Sometimes it felt like Sarah wanted to fix them. But, honestly, there was nothing to repair. Amanda and Zach’s marriage was fine. They were both getting things they wanted. Maybe those things weren’t what people were supposed to get out of marriage. But she and Zach were surviving, weren’t they?

“So how many years have you and Kerry been together then?” Amanda asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Thirty-three, if you count from when we started dating. We were only fifteen when we met. We married twenty-six years ago, back when you were a zygote, Amanda,” Sarah said, propping her chin in her hand sullenly. “If ever there was an excuse for letting a soccer coach put his hands on your butt, I’d say that’s it.”

“There’s something special about that history, though,” Amanda said. “I have this friend, Carolyn, who I’ve known since we were little.”

“Yes, but time deepens friendship,” Sarah said. “Romances, eh, not so much.”