Read Online Stop Here by Beverly Gologorsky - Free Book Online

From behind the counter, her sister throws her a questioning look.
    â€œTake lunch early, please,” she whispers. “I’ll be at that café across from the shoe store.” She’s out the door before Patti can refuse.
    Slipping the keys in her bag, she heads toward the café taking in people’s expressions on the way. What does her face say? she wonders. The first few years of their marriage, Bruce would study her for long minutes, then try to guess her thoughts. She didn’t like it, said it was intrusive; he was invading her head. Some of that would go a long way now.
    The café isn’t crowded. A waiter loiters near the counter looking bored. He follows her as she finds a table away from the window. Her watch reads eleven. It’s too early for anything but coffee, which she orders black. Then she decides on a scone. They’re going to be here awhile, is what she thinks. A huge mural covers one wall, a French countryside, she thinks. A trip to Europe by herself would be exciting. She’d go places if Bruce weren’t around. But where would he be?
    Patti hurries in as she always does, a kind of tic with her, rushing.
    â€œHi sweetie. What’s up?”
    â€œOrder something,” she says.
    â€œI can’t look at cake.”
    The waiter arrives, pad and pencil in hand. Her sister orders a cappuccino.
    â€œTime of day tells me this isn’t a how-are-you visit,” Patti says.
    She gazes at Patti’s long wavy hair dyed the same honey-blond color since she was fifteen; her eye makeup hasn’t changed either. Her sister doesn’t look different from ever before. “It’s Bruce. I don’t love him. I can’t live with him.” The words run out before she can test them, and they surprise her.
    â€œAfter so many years it’s not unusual. There are months I can’t stand the sight of Peter. Then, I don’t know, some little thing happens, the way the light hits his bald spot, the way he rubs his eyes, it brings it all back. You have to wait for those moments to rekindle.” Patti talks fast.
    â€œThey’re not here, they won’t come back.” Peter is jovial. He cooks. He loves the house. In their worst periods, he brings her flowers every Friday night.
    â€œHow can you be so sure?” Patti asks.
    â€œIt’s been too long, more than a year. I’m reaching the edge.”
    â€œThen talk to him.”
    â€œIt’s no use.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œHe’s shut down. Either he takes me to the bottom with him or I let him hit it alone. How can I get out of the marriage without being hated by my sons, you, Bruce, everyone else in our lives? You don’t leave a drowning man, and Bruce is drowning.”
    Two teenage girls make a noisy entrance, laughing like they own the future. Why aren’t they in school?
    â€œShelly, you’re going through that time, not yet fifty but closer than further, when we start asking ourselves what is this life? I’ve been there. I turned fifty last year.”
    Patti’s right, before long she’ll be looking back at fifty, then how quick to sixty. There’ll be limits that aren’t here yet. “So stick it out and one day all will be fine? Is that what you’re saying?” She can’t help the sarcasm.
    â€œIt’s the way things work,” Patti asserts in that voice of hers that claims to know everything. “You can’t hold on to dreams that promise another life, because there isn’t any. Maybe for rich folks who travel the world, own mansions. Not us. Think of the struggle, how long it took to create the homes we wanted. You won’t be able to do that again. Why give it up because Bruce is going through hard times? You’d be sorry.”
    â€œI didn’t expect you to agree, but you’re not getting it.” She should’ve waited to catch Mila on break. Single mothers know a thing or two