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But the cheating? The cheating.

Maybe if I had really pressed we would have finally hashed out everything. He would have apologized, and I would have
accepted his apology. I can’t think about it anymore, though. It’s too late. I’ll never know. And then I realize: I can’t carry this bitterness for someone who can’t fight back. There’s just no point. I can’t think of what could have happened because the truth is this: nothing would have happened. We would never have talked it out. That’s the downside of the generation we came from, and nothing can change it. Today, people get divorced over it, and then their life together is over. I kept my mouth shut. I’m not saying it was right, but that was what we did. We lived our life together and it wasn’t perfect, but what is? Would Lucy’s generation have handled it correctly? What
is
correct? We live, we learn, we move on. There’s only one thing I can do now. I can stop this thinking and wondering. The only thing I can do now is forgive and look at the positive side of our life together.

And then I walk over to my Paris mirror as I did so many times that day. It is me. Staring back from the mirror is the face I’ve grown accustomed to looking at all these years. I take my hands and smooth the rippling skin on my neck. I slide my fingers along the lines of my crow’s feet, my smile lines. I know I’ll never get to the point in my life where I’ll enjoy seeing this weathered face. The one thing I can take solace in, however, is that the way my face looks now is proof that I have indeed lived a long and worthy life. It is a face full of years of smiles, tears, and grief, but above all, joy.

It is time to move on.

I walk over to the phone and dial Lucy’s number.

“Hi, it’s me. I’m still pissed off at you, but I’ll get over it. Listen, what’s Zachary’s number?”

zachary

Why I’m meeting him, I have no idea. Why I’m brushing my hair and putting on makeup, and why on God’s green earth I’ve changed my clothes three times, I don’t know. What’s he going to do? Is he going to realize the woman he fell for that night was actually me?

I knew that Zachary would be up when I called him last night. I just knew he’d have that same sadness in his voice that I did when he picked up the phone. Even the ring on his phone made me feel closer to him as I listened to it repeat two, three times.

“Yeah?” he answered in a groggy voice. I knew he wasn’t sleeping.

I hesitated for a moment when I heard his voice. I didn’t want to hang up, though. I just liked hearing the sound of his voice.

“Hello?” he asked again.

“Zachary?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“Yes?” he asked in his normal tone.

“It’s Mrs. Jerome, Ellie’s grandmother.”

“Oh, hi,” he said with a question in his voice. Who could
blame the poor boy? “Hello, Mrs. Jerome, how are you?” he said with a melancholy undertone.

“I’ve been under the weather the last few days, but from what Lucy tells me, you have been, too. Am I right?”

He took a deep breath and gave an audible sigh. “Mrs. Jerome, I just don’t understand it, and Lucy won’t give me any clues. I’m sorry you had to call me so late. I don’t know what Lucy has told you. I just want to know what happened with your other granddaughter.”

I could hear the pain in his voice. It was just like mine—Lucy was right on that front. Unlike me, however, he had someone who could help him through it. He just needed some grandmotherly advice.

“Zachary, are you free tomorrow, possibly for breakfast?”

He paused again, then said, “Yeah, yes, I’m free.”

“Fine. There’s a little café just on the other side of Rittenhouse Square from where I live. Are you familiar with that café?”

“Sure, I go there a lot.”

“Fine. I’ll see you there at eight. Is that all right?”

“Eight is fine. Thanks for seeing me.”

“It’s the least I can do for you. I’m sorry if this has added any grief to your life.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jerome, I appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Ellie.”

So now I’ve been up since six. Actually, I didn’t sleep much last night; every hour I just kept looking at the clock. Truthfully, I think my sleeplessness could be blamed more on all the sleep
I’ve gotten in the past week than on feeling nervous about seeing Zachary again.

When I awoke this morning I took Zachary’s clothing, the sweatpants and the shirt and the sneakers that I’d thrown in the back of my closet, and washed everything (except the sneakers). I folded it all up and put it in a bag to take with me. I didn’t want to take the clothes. What I really wanted to do was keep them here with me. But in the end, I felt it was better that I give them back.

I decide to wear a pair of beige slacks this morning, and a lilac silk top. I put on my favorite earrings, a pair of diamond studs Howard gave to me years ago. As I take a look at myself in my Paris mirror before I leave, I think I look well put together. At five minutes to eight, I am on my way.

Zachary is already seated with a cup of coffee when I arrive. He looks as terrible as I’ve felt. God knows the last time this poor boy shaved. Or bathed.

He stands up the second he sees me. Always the gentleman, even in the state he’s in. He is dressed in a T-shirt and track pants, much like the ones I carry in the bag I have to give him.

“Hi, Mrs. Jerome, good to see you. Thank you for meeting me.”

I look into his blue eyes and see nothing of the feelings he showed when he looked at me the last time I saw him. I can only steal glances at those blue eyes.
Blue Eyes
, I want to call him. I know, though, that I never can again.

“Zachary, I’m glad you agreed to meet me this morning,” I say, sitting across from him. “First, I wanted to give you back the things my granddaughter borrowed from you. She asked that I give them back.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” he says unhappily as he takes the bag.

“I know you might not understand this now, but maybe someday you will. My granddaughter, Ellie, I know she had a wonderful time being with you. She told me herself.”

“She did?” He perks up slightly.

“She did. It was very difficult to do what she did, to leave you in the middle of the night like that.”

“I just couldn’t understand it.” He slumps in his chair. “I know everything was sudden. I know from your point of view, you’re wondering how two people only knowing each other for a day could feel so strongly about each other.” He pauses. “But I did.”

I stop him. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I know exactly what you’re talking about. The two of you had a profound connection. It has nothing to do with how long you knew each other.”

“I thought you might think it was childish to feel that way.”

“Naivete is one thing. Knowing what’s right is completely different,” I tell him.

“So then what happened?” he asks, grasping for words. “Why did she leave like that?”

I have gone over the answer to this question a million times through the night. In the end, the answer is simple: “Zachary, in Ellie’s case . . . Ellie had responsibilities. She thought she could run away from them. We all think we can, don’t we? In the end, she just couldn’t. She knew she had to learn to accept them.”

“I don’t understand. Did she have a family?”

“Yes.” I exhale. “She has a family.”

“And Howard?” he asks.

“She loves Howard very much. Whether she could admit
it or not, she loves Howard, and will always love Howard. But what she really needed was just one day off from life to think about everything. So she came here to Philadelphia, she enlisted Lucy as her accomplice, and she set out to live one day in her life free of responsibility. It was supposed to be a fun day, doing things she hadn’t done in a long time. All of it was supposed to have nothing to do with real life. Instead, something happened. She met you.”

“Is that what she told you?” he asks.

“She didn’t have to tell me anything.”

“So then why did she leave?” he asks again.

“She wasn’t going to. She was all set to do just that, change her life and start all over again. The problem is—and, thankfully, you don’t have to know this yet—but . . . sometimes you can’t change what’s already set in stone. She had her doubts, but the truth is, Howard is her one and only. Her family is what matters to her most, and Howard is the one she built it with. Taking that one day off from life, that’s what made her realize it. You have to know, though, for as much as she needed to leave, she also wanted to stay. Sometimes you have no choice in life but to stay where you are and work it out.”

“You know, I did have the feeling she was still with Howard.” He nods.

“Oh, she is,” I reiterate. “For better or worse, she’ll always be with Howard.” And then I say something that even makes me stop for a second: “Howard is her soul mate.” And as the words come out of my mouth, I know they are the truth.

My question has been answered. Who is my soul mate? For better or for worse, it will always be Howard Jerome.

“Actually, I knew it because of something she said to me.”

“And what was that?” I ask, wondering what it was I could have said.

“She told me she had regrets about her life.”

My hand starts to shake so I put it under the table, hoping he won’t notice.

“And I told her,” he continues, “that she’s young, she’s got a lot of years to make up for something she might have regretted.”

It is the third time in a week I’ve heard this said to me. And for the first time, I really heard it. For the first time in a week, I smile.

“Thank you for giving Ellie such a gift,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?” he asks with a perplexed look on his face.

“Zachary, I want you to hear me when I say this, and I don’t want you to ever forget it.”

“Okay.”

I take a deep breath. “The night she spent with you is something she will never forget. You gave her a second chance at her life. I know that it’s something she will always take with her,” I tell him, tears in my eyes. “Sure, she’s with Howard, but you will always be in her heart.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” he tells me, tears coming to his eyes as well.

I go into my bag and pull out the travel-size package of tissues I always carry around. I hand him one and then use one myself.

“Thank you.” He sighs as he wipes his eyes.

“No, thank
you
,” I tell him.

“For what?”

“For Ellie’s night.”

“You’re welcome,” he says softly.

We sit for a moment dabbing our eyes. I know that what I have said has helped him. I know now that everything will be all right.

“So?” I say, dabbing my eyes one last time and exhaling deeply. “You think they’ve got pancakes here? I’m suddenly very hungry.”

“You know, I don’t think they do, but that sounds good to me. I haven’t eaten a lot in the last few days, and I’m suddenly hungry, too. I know a place that makes great pancakes a couple blocks from here, if you’ve got the time,” he says.

“As it happens, I do have the time.” I smile. “Does the place you’re thinking of happen to have an outdoor café? It’s such a beautiful day to sit out in the sun. It would do you good to get some sun. You look like you’ve been cramped up in your apartment for days.”

“Actually, I have. That’s a good idea,” he says, getting up from his chair and helping me up from mine.

“You know, Mrs. Jerome . . . Ellie,” he says as he places his elbow out for me to take hold. “Thank you for your wisdom. I really needed it.”

I lock my arm in his as we begin to leave.

“Zachary,” I say, looking at this young man. “When you get to be my age, that’s the best compliment a person could receive.”

“Mrs. Jerome, you’re also a very cool lady.”

“Lucy says that, too,” I say emphatically, beaming.

“By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to mention,” he says, holding the door for me.

“What’s that?”

“How weird is it that you and your granddaughter have the same name and you both fell in love with guys named Howard?”

“I know,” I say, adding, “crazy coincidence, isn’t it?”

seventy-six

I’m seventy-six today.

And that’s fine with me.

I didn’t do much in terms of my birthday today. I had other things to do.

Tonight was the engagement party, and it was more than my pleasure to throw it. As usual, The Prime Rib did a fabulous job. The coffee was just right, and the crab cakes were sublime. My salmon was cooked to perfection. Barbara ate every last bit of her steak.

Frida didn’t want much in the way of a grand party, but I begged to differ. How many times do you get to throw your best girlfriend an engagement party?

Well, I got to do it twice. The first time with Sol, all those years ago, and the second time tonight, for Frida and Hershel.

“Mom, make sure The Prime Rib has enough candles,” Barbara called me this morning to tell me. “Frida wants the whole thing by candlelight, and you know your friends will complain they can’t see their food.”

“Barbara,” I told her, “I’ve got the situation under control.”

Some things never change, do they?

Or do they?

“That’s all I wanted to remind you,” she said. “It’s going to be a gorgeous night,” she added.

I honestly didn’t think anyone would even remember my birthday. Lucy has Frida coming in for so many fittings for her wedding dress I don’t know how she doesn’t get lost in remembering what gets taken in here and what gets let out there. I work in Lucy’s office a few days a week, helping her with buyer’s meetings. When Frida came in the other day I told her to stop losing so much weight, but she says she can’t help it now, with all the exercise she and Hershel do. Believe me, you don’t want to know what kind of exercise they’re doing. She’s like a schoolgirl, though, when she gives me the dirty details, so I listen to what she wants to tell me. Trust me, it will be good when Hershel finally makes an honest woman out of her.

“Ellie,” she said to me one day, “I want you to find happiness with as nice a man as I have.”

Don’t think I won’t. There’s even someone I’ve had my eye on. I see him in the park when I’m sitting out in the sun. Don’t worry, he’s my age. I actually knew his wife, Leona Price. Such a shame she died—Alzheimer’s. I would hear from my girlfriends about the way he took care of her until she passed on. I used to see the two of them at cocktail parties and other events through the years. He always seemed like a very nice man, and when he approached me in the park that first day I was more than happy to talk to him. Who knows? Maybe I’ll ask him to be my date for the wedding.