Introduction

Barbara, Kaye, and Ellen, longtime friends, are inseparable—but each nurtures her own secret. As a widowed mother, Barbara hides her persona as a writer of erotica. Kaye is having an extramarital affair that reawakens her passion but fills her with conflict. Ellen has lost her husband to a younger woman who is now pregnant—a painful blow, since Ellen and her husband were never able to conceive. But she is not childless… Ellen is still haunted by the memory of the baby girl she had at sixteen and was forced to relinquish at birth. Estranged from her family, Ellen realizes that if she is ever to find her lost daughter—now a grown woman herself—she will have to confront her shame and rely on her dearest friends. C

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Excerpt

Chapter Six

Soon after Bill was out of her life, Ellen discovered a cable station that featured a program aptly called Animal Miracle Stories. It fascinated her though she had no pets of her own. Bill had been allergic to cats, and he disliked dogs. As Ellen became more and more engrossed in the feats of ordinary household pets, she realized that Bill's dislike of animals should have alerted her to his shortcomings. How could anyone resist a beautiful yellow Labrador like Misty? In the middle of one very cold, winter night, Misty woke from her cozy spot at the foot of her owner's bed and realized that something was terribly wrong. The astonishing dramatization showed how after some preliminary sniffing, Misty sensed that her owner was in trouble. Amazingly, Misty dialed 911, alerting the local police to the situation by barking into the phone. Within minutes, an ambulance was on the way, and Misty (obviously, no ordinary Lab) was invited to ride in the ambulance with her grateful owner. Ellen clutched her pillow to her chest and sobbed as she watched Misty receive a medal from her community volunteer ambulance corps. Ellen would not have been any prouder if Misty had been Ellen's dog.

Misty was the start of Ellen's addiction to Animal Miracle Stories. She found herself thinking about the show while she was at work or on the way home from the grocery. She eyed dogs and cats with new interest, wondering about each one's potential for heroism. The story of Jewel, the tabby who woke her owners and prevented the death of their newborn from SIDS sent Ellen into hysterics until it was certain that the infant was out of danger. Oh, to have such a cat. Ellen was overcome with envy. Even more inspirational was the story of Gismo, the cat who found her way back home after an absence of eight years. Gismo's family had been forced to relinquish her after their son developed a serious allergy. Apparently, Gismo never quite adjusted to her new life because she traveled more than two hundred miles, hoping to be reunited with her original owners. Such devotion, Ellen marveled. Such loyalty. She was filled with the most unimaginable longing to be so loved, so wanted. After the Gismo episode, Ellen decided there was something worrisome about the feelings these segments provoked. It was late, but she had to talk to someone. She called Kaye, but George said she was out. Hesitantly, she called Barbara who was unusually sympathetic though she asked Ellen if she had first phoned Kaye.

“You did,” Barbara said, “didn't you?”

“Yes, Ellen admitted. “It's not that I don't trust you, but you can be so hard sometimes.”

“Maybe it's a defense mechanism?”

“I don't think so,” Ellen said. “Do you?”

“No,” Barbara said with exaggerated sadness. “I think I'm just a bitch.”

“So, you're not offended?”

“Of course I'm offended.” Barbara dragged hard on her plastic cigarette. “Shouldn't I be?”

“Are you smoking?” Ellen said.

“Plastic. Have you seen that show about freaky accidents? I'm not really sure what it's called, but I watched it all the time after Roger died.”

“No, I never saw it. Is it good?”

“Good?” Barbara said. “There was this one kid who survived lightening that came up through the ground. He was literally electrocuted, and he lived.”

“That is fantastic,” Ellen said. “But not more fantastic than Gismo. Can you imagine how much that cat must have loved her owners? Can you imagine anyone loving you that much?”

“No, I guess not. I mean, I love my kids that much, but I don't think they love me that much back.”

As soon as the words were out, Barbara wished she could take them back. References to children were always painful for Ellen, but lately it seemed hard for her to breathe when there was even the slightest suggestion of babies or children in general.

Ellen went on as if she had not heard. “And that tabby who saved the infant. Well, that was truly inspirational.”

“I'm sure it was,” Barbara said. But I still think the show about freaky accidents and their survivors is much better.”

“You never saw my show,” Ellen protested.

“Your show?” Barbara said, laughing. “Well, in that case, you never saw mine.”

“I guess.” Ellen sighed. “So you don't think I'm crazy?”

“I never said that,” Barbara said.

“Do you think I need antidepressants?”

“I think everyone needs antidepressants.”

“I think I need something,” Ellen said in a voice so small that she barely heard herself. “I definitely think I need something.”

“Have you spoken to Bill recently?”

“No, not for a while.”

Ellen had called him at the office a few times, but she always hung up before Lisa, his secretary answered. It was just too humiliating to speak to her. Instead, Ellen emailed Bill if she had to share any information. His responses were curt, businesslike, and without any trace of remorse or affection. Sometimes she stared at the computer screen, wondering how it was possible that this was the same man who had cut the crusts from her sandwiches after she had oral surgery and who brought her chamomile tea on a tray before bed, rubbing the back of her neck with so much enthusiasm that it made her wonder how it came to pass that she was lucky to finally be so loved. Now he sent her emails that had neither a salutation nor a closing. He never even signed his name anymore. It was all about facts and numbers. The messages were so terse that they felt like an assault. She recoiled when she read them. Once or twice, she had even covered her eyes, peering through her fingers.

“I'm sorry,” Barbara said. “He treated you very badly.”

“Yes, I know he did.” Ellen swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “Tell me about another freaky accident. A really gory one.”

Eager to oblige, Barbara told Ellen about a young electrician who lost his balance on a ladder and immediately dropped his electric drill, basic safety protocol for even the most amateur apprentice. Regrettably, he could not regain his balance and fell, landing squarely on the drill. It pierced the back of his skull and came straight through his forehead. A team of skilled emergency room doctors managed to remove the drill and save his life. The drill had missed his brain by centimeters. It was a true freaky survival story Barbara noted in her final summation.

“I have to give it to you. That was freaky and fantastic,” Ellen said. “I am genuinely impressed.”

“I told you so,” Barbara said.

“I still think my show is more uplifting.”

“Uplifting is good, but I would rather be wowed than be uplifted.”

“If you say so. “ Ellen cleared her throat and said, “You never liked Bill, did you?”

“This is a bad idea,” Barbara said.

“Just answer the question,” Ellen said.

“It's such an unfair question,” Barbara whined. If Kaye had been there, she would have given Barbara a warning look. But without Kaye, Barbara was left to her own poor judgment. She should have insisted that she liked everything about Bill, but that was not her way. “I guess I didn't like that he was so fussy about everything.”

“What do you mean by fussy?”

“Everything had to be so perfect. Even you. It always struck me as sort of degrading.”

“Gosh, Barb, I'm always so surprised at how uncharitable you can be.”

“You asked me,” Barbara said. “Isn't there anything about him that you didn't like?”

It was so silent on the other end that Barbara thought they had been disconnected. But it only took her seconds to realize that the silence meant that Ellen really still loved William Formerly Known as Bill. So when she finally answered, it was evident that she had struggled to think of something that might be considered damning, something that would exonerate her as the ill-used wife, the one who was always the last to know.

“He didn't care for animals,” Ellen said. She sounded pleased with herself. “I don't trust people who don't like animals.”

“That's the best you can do?” Barbara said.

“What do you want me to say? You want me to say that I don't like Bill because he betrayed me and then left me? Isn't that sort of obvious?” Ellen said. “That's not the worst of what Bill did to me. The worst is that I let the years go by and gave in to his insistence that we didn't need to be parents. He said his life was complete with me at his side. We had each other, he told me. We didn't need children. And now he's going to have a baby, and I'm alone, truly alone.”

“I'm so sorry, Ellen.”

“That's all right. I'll think of something else to do with my life.”

“Ellen, do you want me to come down there? I can call Kaye, and we can pick up some food and head down.”

“Thanks, but no. I'm fine. I just felt I was headed for a meltdown,” Ellen said. “Anyway, Kaye probably isn't even home yet. She's been so busy lately. And when we do speak, she seems so distant.”

“She has been, hasn't she?”

“She gets like this sometimes.”

“Never like this,” Ellen said.

“Maybe it's us,” Barbara said. “Maybe she's sick of hearing us complain. She listens to people's complaints all day long.”

“True, but she complains too . . . thought not as much lately . . . ,” Ellen said. “Anyway, how are your kids? I haven't seen them in ages.”

After Barbara quickly brought Ellen up to date, they agreed to meet on the weekend for dinner, maybe a movie.

“You'll be all right,” Barbara said. “It's hard to start over, but you're smart and strong.”

“I think I need a miracle.”

“I didn't know you really believed in miracles.”

“All reasonable people believe in miracles,” Ellen said with conviction.

She had evidently given miracles a great deal of thought.

The last time Ellen went to out dinner with Bill alone before the black tie catastrophe, she felt apprehensive in a way that could only, in retrospect, be acknowledged as a premonition. In their favorite Chinese restaurant where large bowls of noodle soup were the house specialty, the commotion was always a bit alarming. Amid the cacophony of hastily spoken Cantonese, the crash and clang of dishes, and the blur of waiters and waitresses scurrying with plates of steaming food, Ellen noticed a young woman thoroughly absorbed in her bowl of soup. She was probably just thirty, if that, and she was dressed demurely in a pale yellow sleeveless blouse with a round collar (the sort they had called a Peter Pan collar in Ellen's day). Thin, but not skinny, the young woman's neck was long and exquisite, rising from her jutting collar bones (the top few buttons of her blouse were open) like a piece of modern sculpture. Soft, dark curls framed her brow, but the rest of her hair was pulled away from her narrow face, revealing enormous brown eyes accentuated by thick though shapely eyebrows. While she was beautiful, this was not what held Ellen's attention. The young woman's unhurried solitude was compelling. Totally committed to her bowl of soup, she lifted spoonful after spoonful to her full lips, parting them widely to receive the broth studded with broad noodles, broccoli, carrots, and pea pods, tiny ears of corn, tofu, shrimp and chicken. Ellen watched these delicate morsels disappear between the young woman's lips until she looked up and their eyes met. She neither smiled, nor looked defensive. She had a bowl of soup to finish, and she was diligent in her task. Her temerity endeared her to Ellen who suspected that in similar circumstances, she would have been reluctant to meet the eyes of a stranger, fearing everything from pity to loathing. After all, the sight of someone eating alone in a restaurant was generally more discomfiting than inspiring.

Several months later Ellen's was having dinner alone in the same restaurant. She waited for her bowl of soup to be served, remembering the young woman who had eaten every drop, even unabashedly tilting the bowl on its side to scrape up every last morsel. Bill had noticed her too, looking away in discomfort. Ellen now realized that the young woman was probably the same age as his Daisy. Ellen had said that she admired the girl, emphasizing how awkward it could be to eat alone in a restaurant. She never really liked to eat alone herself, she said, and Bill had nodded without much enthusiasm. But she had persisted, almost driven by his already foul mood. Did he ever eat alone in a restaurant? The question had hit a nerve, and Bill inexplicably irritated, jumped up, and excused himself. And then, Ellen had known that his reaction was not really about her questions or her endless musings, but about the future she was going to inherit as a result of his selfish folly.

“Soup?” the waiter asked.

“Yes,” Ellen said. “Thank you.”

He asked if she wanted another bottle of Tsingtao, but she no thank you. It was a large bottle, and she still had some left. The waiter was not listening anyway. She stared into her soup, remembering. Sometimes Ellen thought it must be easier to be widowed than a woman scorned. Widows were treated reverentially, but wives who had been replaced by younger and firmer flesh were carefully scrutinized to see what part they had played in the abandonment. She smiled at the waiter who gruffly asked if she would like anything else.

“Just some more tea, please, and some of those almond cookies.”

He whisked away her bowl and utensils, wiping the table with a cloth that seemed to come from nowhere.

“Ellen? It is Ellen isn't it?”

She gazed mildly into the eyes of a stranger, a rather handsome man, wondering how he knew her name. Ellen was feeling a little sleepy from the beer, a little groggy in general.

“Do I know you?” Ellen said.

“Anthony,” he said. “Anthony Masters. You look terrific.”

Ellen did indeed look terrific. Barbara always said Ellen was a classic beauty. She dressed in the fashion of women who came from old money. It was a look she had acquired by studying her clients. She favored slim cut pants, tailored jackets and silk blouses, but she looked well in dresses and skirts, wearing them with reasonably high heels, just high enough to show off her shapely legs. That evening, she was wearing a black skirt, a black silk blouse and black and white stadium pumps. Her only jewelry was a pair of sizeable diamond studs and an expensive watch that had been last year's Christmas present from Bill. Men found Ellen's restraint irresistible, even proper. Bill had always told her that every man dreams of bedding a lady and inspiring her to be unladylike.

Alan Masters. The name meant nothing to her, and his face was an even greater mystery.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm not very good with names.”

“It's been a very long time.”

“Oh?”

“Thirty years, at least.”

“Really? You're from Connecticut?”

“Actually, no. I'm from Rhode Island. We met a few times at the U Conn. I was Sam Benedict's roommate.”

It was a name she had not heard spoken out loud in so long that it seemed as though he had never existed. The last contact Ellen had with Sam was when she saw his signature on the relinquishment papers, terminating his rights as Faith's father. His signature guaranteed that there would be no problems later on. No one even spoke his name out loud then. She saw her parents exchange glances as she docilely signed all the documents. Her parents had appointed an attorney to contact Sam. He had not even known Ellen was pregnant. She overheard the attorney tell her parents that it was a standard line. Ellen had not argued; there was no point. Later, when she was able to be alone with the attorney for a few minutes. Ellen asked if Sam had wanted to contact her. The attorney shook his head and smiled, assuring her that the young man had been very pleasant. After all, it was for the best, the lawyer insisted. They were both too young. He had done hundreds of these adoptions. “You're doing the right thing for you and for your baby,” he assured her. She noticed that he never made eye contact with her, not even once.

Ellen had actually forgotten that Sam's last name was Benedict. And she was stunned that this man remembered her. She searched his face for something familiar, but there was nothing. Ellen and a few other local girls had traveled the thirty or so miles to Storrs, desperate to escape the tedium of weekends at home where there was one movie theater and nothing much else to do except drink beer or smoke pot down at the beach with the same people you had known since kindergarten. When one of the girls, Marcy, met a boy from the University of Connecticut on the train, she invited Ellen and a few other girls to accompany her to a fraternity party. Marcy had lied about her age, so it was easy for all of them to pretend they were older. They drove to Storrs for the weekend in Marcy's parents' car, allegedly attending a college recruitment weekend. They had a great time and spent the night in the room of the boy Marcy had met on the train. He gave up his room to them since his roommate was in West Virginia for a family funeral. Ellen remembered Marcy's friend had been a gentleman. She felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach as she remembered the party and how stupidly she had behaved. It was possible that Anthony knew what had resulted from her night with Sam, but it was also possible that Sam had never said anything.

“You were Marcy's friend,” Ellen said. “She met you on the train. We stayed in your room.”

Anthony smiled. “Yes, that was me.” He shook his head. “You look exactly the same.”

“You were a real gentleman then too.” She held out her hand. “I'm flattered that you remember me.”

“You were the prettiest girl there,” he said. “Everyone thought so.”

“Everyone was very drunk.” She looked past him and asked, “Are you alone? Would you like to join me for some tea?”

“Yes to both questions.” He slid into the booth across from her. “What about you? What are you doing here all alone?”

Ellen signaled the waiter for another cup, holding hers aloft. He brought one almost immediately, and she noticed that her hand shook as she poured the tea. Hoping to distract Anthony, she pushed the plate of almond cookies toward him.

“Have one,” she said. “It will be one less that I eat. I'm crazy for them.”

Anthony obediently took a cookie and bit into it. Then, he took a big gulp of the hot tea, draining the small cup.

“So, you never answered my question,” he said.

“I live in the neighborhood. This is a favorite local haunt.”

“Married?”

“Yes,” Ellen said. “I'm married.” She stared at him, daring him to ask if she had any children. “What about you?”

“Oh, I've been married.” He held up three fingers. “This many times.”

“Why?” she said.

“I keep hoping to get it right.”

“I see. And do you live in the city?”

“Actually, no. I still live in Rhode Island. Newport.”

“Lovely there. We used to spend a week there in the summer.”

“It's even nicer off-season.”

“I'm sure.” Ellen was beginning to regret her invitation. She was running out of conversation. “So what do you do?”

“I'm an attorney. Estates, wills, that sort of thing.”

And you're in town on business? All the way from Rhode Island?” Ellen said. “New York is full of attorneys.”

“Well, this was a special favor for an old family friend.”

“How sweet.” She looked at her watch. “It's so late. I hadn't realized . . . early morning meeting tomorrow.”

“With?”

“Oh, I'm an interior designer.”

“Interesting work. You look the part.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely.” Anthony reached into his pocket and took out a business card. “If you're ever in Rhode Island, with your husband, your whole family, of course.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I'll keep it in mind.”

“Do you go home much?” Anthony said.

“As little as possible. We're a very dysfunctional family.”

“Welcome to the club. I'm afraid it's not terribly elite.”

Ellen nodded to show her agreement, and then took out her credit card and placed it on the tray the waiter had left with her bill and a packet of fortune cookies. She held up the tray to get the waiter's attention.

“Are you going to eat that?” Anthony said, pointing to the fortune cookies. “I'm crazy for them.”

“They're yours.” She pushed the cellophane packet toward him. “Just keep your fortune to yourself. I've had enough surprises for one day.” She caught his injured look. “Oh, not you. I'm sorry. That came out all wrong.”

“No offense taken.” He opened the packet and broke one of the cookies in half, reading the fortune before popping both halves into his mouth. “Stale. I hate that. You know Sam Benedict died.”

Ellen looked around frantically for the waiter who had still not taken her credit card. She needed some air.

“Was that in your fortune cookie?” she said, sounding more flip than she had intended. Mean, really. It was a dreadful response. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that.”

“It's all right. It was a real tragedy. He left behind a wife and three children. The family was devastated.”

“I can imagine,” Ellen said. She paused while the waiter finally took her credit card and the check. “Poor family. What did he die of?”

Just as Anthony was about to answer, Ellen decided she would rather not know and said, “Actually, I don't want to know.”

Poor Anthony seemed just slightly taken aback, but he was so well mannered that he seemed more concerned with her discomfort and smoothly changed course.

“I never had any children,” he said. “My second and third wives each had kids, but I never see them now.”

“I'm sorry. That's very sad. And so is the news about Sam. Frankly, I don't think I would have recognized him if I ever saw him again.” The waiter brought back the check with the printed credit card receipt and waited while she added a tip and signed. She acknowledged his thanks with a cursory nod and said, “Well, it's been interesting to see you.”

“He would have recognized you.”

Ellen looked up. She had been folding her receipt and placing it in her wallet. She was momentarily confused. “Who? Who would have recognized me?”

“Sam.”

She touched the tea pot. Surprisingly, it was still hot, and she left her hand there, suddenly feeling cold.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” Anthony said. “I was stunned to see you.”

“I don't have any children if you were wondering.

”

“I was.”

“So, that's all settled now. “ She stood and held out her hand. “Good luck to you, especially if you get married again. “ Her coat was hanging on the rack in the front of the restaurant. “I'd better be going.”

“Yes and thank you. I probably will get married again. I'm an optimist.”

“How unfortunate,” Ellen said, smiling wryly at this very nice man. “I'm glad for you.”

They walked to the front of the restaurant together, and Anthony held her coat. They shook hands again, promising to stay in touch even though she had not given him one of her business cards. She got a cab right away. As soon as she settled into the darkness of the back seat, Ellen cried for Sam Benedict, who had died, and then for their daughter and all the unknowns in their lives. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

Discussion Questions:
1. Why do you think this book is titled The Sinner's Guide to Confession? Who are the sinners in this story? Do they find redemption through confession?

2. Why does Ellen keep her past from her friends? Do you think she is right to hide her past?

3. How does writing as Delilah help Barbara to live a more fulfilling life? What does she gain from her secret writing? Do you think she is ashamed to write so unabashedly about sex? Why or why not?

4. Discuss Kaye's affair with Frank. What attracts her to Frank to begin with? Do you empathize with her situation or do you think she should have divorced her husband?

5. Why does Ellen take such joy in tutoring Marisol? What does Marisol represent to Ellen? When Marisol leaves, what does Ellen lose?

6. Ellen has always kept her past and her family hidden from Barbara and Kaye. So why does she ask them to come to her father's funeral with her? What does she gain by telling them the truth?

7. What is the role of marriage in this novel? Did any of the women in the novel have happy marriages? Do you think they love their husbands?

8. Why do you think Bill turns up at Ellen's father's funeral? Do you think they have any chance of reconciliation? In Ellen's place, do you think you would be able to forgive Bill?

9. How is Gertie a pivotal figure throughout the novel? How does she care for her family? What does she represent for Kaye? How do Kaye, Barbara, and Ellen compare as mothers to their children?

10. Why do you think Justine ends her affair? Why does Kaye? What toll does Kaye's affair take on her family?

11. When Kaye goes to Frank to end the affair, she lies and tells him that she was going to accept his proposal. Why does she tell this lie? What purpose does it serve? In what other ways do characters in this novel lie to save face?

12. Discuss the adoption of Ellen's daughter. Do you think Ellen was too passive when her daughter was being taken away? Was there really anything she could have done? Why do you think she waits so long to begin searching for her daughter?

13. Do you think Ellen, Barbara, and Kaye are strong women? Why or why not?

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