Until It Was Gone: A Contemporary Family Novel of Resilience and Hope by David B. Seaburn
Franklin and Laney have an estranged daughter, a granddaughter they’ve never met, a sister whose husband has been killed in a mass shooting, and to top it off, today, their fortieth anniversary, Laney announces she wants a divorce. This is a story of family conflict and social dilemmas, but it is also a story of forgiveness, healing and hope.
From Chapter 1:
“Franklin, thank you so much for this lovely dinner.”
“You’re very—”
“And thank you for everything.”
“Well—”
“I think we’ve done a good job.”
Franklin sat up straight and put his coffee cup on the saucer.
“What good job?”
“Forty years is quite an accomplishment. I mean, it’s half a lifetime. Actually, it’s been two thirds of my life. By any measure, that’s a long time.”
“What are you saying?”
Laney was standing now, clutch in hand. Her skin wasn’t as smooth as it once was, there were lines across her forehead, some extra flesh dangling from her arms, but dammit, thought Franklin, she’s still a beautiful woman.
“I’m saying—enough. Forty years is enough. I think it’s time we put a period at the end of this sentence.”
“A period at what?”
“I’m leaving you, Franklin.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. If I wasn’t clear, I can say it again.”
“Absolutely not.” He looked at the surrounding tables to see if anyone was watching. “What’s going on? Is this some kind of joke?
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
Laney didn’t blink, her mouth didn’t move, her nose didn’t twitch.
“This is…surely we can talk about whatever is bothering you.”
“You think so?”
“Come on, really. Every marriage hits some bumps in the road. We could see that therapist again, what was her name, always wore Birkenstocks, didn’t like me.”
“Dr. Rothman.”
“We could see her again. I could be more friendly.”
“You are the way you are, Franklin. And it works admirably well for you. But not for me.”
Chairs at other tables were turning.
“But I can change.”
“It’s not about you. At least not completely. It’s also about me. I need to do this for myself. Call it my Declaration of Independence. Life, liberty and, more to the point, the pursuit of happiness.”
“Happiness?”
“Yes.”
“Who said marriage was about happiness?”
“And here we go.”
“After forty years, who thinks about happiness? You’re just thankful every night that you have someone beside you, someone to pick up the yoke of life with you each morning so you can keep going. Otherwise, what’s the point? You can’t live a decent life all by yourself.”
“Franklin, did you know that over one third of adults in this country never marry? Did you?”
“That makes total sense to me. I mean, who’s kidding who? Have you ever looked at people? When I used to walk to work, every third person I saw was ugly, or unreasonably fat, or clearly stupid. Who would marry them? They don’t even want to marry each other? But the rest of us should be married and stay married.”
“My God.”
“What? I’m being honest.”
“I’m going to leave now, Franklin.” Laney put on her mask, the one that said, “I Don’t Want to Die Because of You.”
“Is it because I’m older than you? I can tighten things up, hit the gym, you know, ten thousand steps a day, the whole deal.” A confident smile curled the corners of his mouth, as if he’d stumbled onto an irresistibly tantalizing solution.
“You were ten years older than me when we married. I didn’t forget that for forty years and then suddenly remember today. Age was never a problem, Franklin.”
Franklin’s shoulders tightened and his toes curled. What’s going on? Maybe it’s menopause. He knew that could make a woman episodically crazy, but Laney didn’t look crazy, at all. She looked calm, focused, reasonable. She had a faint Mona Lisa smile on her face. Maybe it’s another man, he thought. A younger, more viral type (Of course age was an issue! When he had leg cramps during sex and they had to stop, she’d say, “It’s just an age thing, I’m sure.”).
“Is there someone else?”
“What?” said Laney, her brow furrowed.
“Another guy, a younger guy.”
“God, no.”
This is worse than being left for another man. Laney is leaving him, because he is him. His friend Randy’s wife left him. She said it was because she couldn’t bear the sight of him for one more minute. This left Randy in a terrible way. Two months later, he found out that Carol, his ex, had been sleeping with another guy for six months. The relief on his face was palpable. It’s better to be left because of someone else than because of yourself.
“Then why?”
“Like I said, forty years is enough.”
Franklin chewed what was left in his mouth, swallowed, cleared his throat, and coughed into his fist. He smiled at Laney, but she wasn’t looking. His neck pulsed like a snare drum, as he placed a hand on his chest.
“Laney, don’t you love me anymore?”
Laney had hoped she’d get away without hearing those words. She steadied her gaze and wished she felt sad.
“No, Franklin, I don’t.”
“Jesus, God.” Franklin stared at Laney, his mouth wide. “Did you ever love me?”
“Of course, I loved you.” She nestled the clutch under one arm. “Until it was gone.” With that, she headed for the door.