I Did Not Break Up Claire and Jeremy

By Erin O'Riordan

Jeremy took a long drag on his cigarette. "So," he said as he exhaled, "I guess this lesbian thing is over once and for all."

I sat with my elbows on the bar, head in my hands. "You don't have to sound so happy about it."

"I'm far from happy about it," he said. His English accent is even more pronounced when he's drinking. But still, nothing like the exaggerated accents of the characters he plays in the movies. "She is my wife, after all."

"She was your wife," I corrected. "As of today, she's officially Glen Stinson's wife."

I flipped over the program from Claire's wedding and stared at the portrait on the cover. Claire looked gorgeous in her wedding gown. And it wasn't just the makeup, the hair stylist, and the professional lighting. Claire Hamilton was beautiful when she woke up in the morning with nothing on but that famous crooked smile. She was beautiful brushing her teeth, beautiful washing the dishes, beautiful clipping her toenails.

Glen Stinson, on the other hand, could best be summed up in one word: troll. He was short. He was bald on top, and had an unruly mess of curling slate-gray hair on the sides. And, despite being able to afford an army of personal trainers, he was fat. I'm no great judge of male beauty, but even I could see that Glen Stinson was a two, at best, while Jeremy Reed was at least a seven.

The bartender brought Jeremy another shot of Jameson. The Irish whiskey was my idea, actually. He downed the shot and said, "You stole her from me first."

"And I keep telling you," I said, "that I was not responsible for breaking up your marriage. You were already separated when I came along, if you'll remember." I was a little defensive.

"Well," Jeremy said, "maybe you and Claire were breaking up before Glen Stinson came along." He lit another cigarette.

In the three years that Claire and I had been together, Jeremy and I had developed a kind of symbiotic relationship. Since Claire and I shared custody of the Hamilton-Reed children with Jeremy, we'd seen quite a lot of each other. Now that Claire had married Glen, I needed him more than ever. I was neither father nor biological mother. Since Aidan and Glory already had two parents, I couldn't even adopt them. The only way I'd see my kids again was if Jeremy and I worked as a team.



I tried not to stare at her, but I knew who she was. Girls In Tuxedos had just come out, and Claire Hamilton was the hot indie actress of the moment. And there she was at my coffee spot, sitting at the corner table, opening a bottled iced coffee. I'm always amazed at the way women with false nails do the little things, like twisting the cap off a bottle, without breaking those things. Claire bent her fingers out of the way and twisted, using only the palm of her hand, with practiced deftness.

I looked down at my own hands. I hadn't had a manicure since my sister's wedding three years before. Even then, I'd insisted on clear nail polish instead of the gaudy purple the other bridesmaids wore. Femme wasn't really my thing.

After taking a drink, Claire went to set the bottle down on the edge of the table, next to her newspaper. As she did, she knocked her tote bag onto the floor. Papers spewed forth.

Instinctively, I jumped out of my hard-won place in the middle of the line and reached for the papers. I'm such a sucker for a damsel in distress. I managed to scoop up most of them before they fell out of the tote.

"Thanks," she said, flashing me her crooked smile. "I get a little clumsy before I've had my first bottle of the morning." Her Brooklyn accent stood straight out.

"No biggie," I said coolly.

I could tell she was a native, and I bet she already had me pegged as a transplant from the Midwest.

I got back in line. The wait was long, but eventually I got my lemon poppy seed muffin and green tea chai latte. I was just about to sit down when I felt Claire's hand on my shoulder. She invited me to sit at her table.

We had a nice conversation. I hadn't known that she was married to Jeremy Reed. In fact, when she told me his name, it didn't even ring any bells. The kinds of adventure and crime stories that he gets cast in aren't really my cup of tea.

"We have two kids," she told me. "Aidan, our boy, is eight, and his sister Glory is not quite five. I love them, but I desperately need some time to myself."

I was surprised at the intimate details of her life that she poured out to me, a stranger in a coffee shop. It was as if we'd become instant friends. She didn't have a lot of girlfriends, she said. We exchanged numbers, but I didn't think she would actually call me.

But she did. We had lunch two Saturdays after we met. We sat in a very private booth in a restaurant I never could have gotten into by myself. I'd glammed up a little for the occasion, donning a black and white dress and pulling my black hair back into a neat ponytail. I even put on a little lipstick.

"I like the dress," Claire said, boosting my confidence just enough for me to pretend I belonged there.

Over salad, Claire told me that she and Jeremy were getting separated. "You're lucky," she told me, her pretty face full of pain. "You never got married. One minute you're in love with a guy, and the next thing you know, you can't get away from him fast enough."

I nodded. "It's the same way with girls, really."

She laughed, but then she started to cry. I moved over to her side of the table and put my arm around her. I was being sympathetic, not making a pass. I think she understood. After lunch, we split a cab. My building was closer, and just as I was getting out, she leaned in and kissed me.

I knew I probably shouldn't have, but when Claire's lips touched mine, I closed my eyes and kissed her right back. The heat from her body and the lovely scent of her perfume overpowered my sense of reason, and I put my soul into that kiss. My fingers played lightly through her blonde hair. In a moment it was over.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know it's not a good time. But I really do like you, Crystal."

"I like you, too," I whispered back.

I stepped out of the cab and went up to my apartment. I spent the rest of the afternoon lying on my back across the bed, waiting for the phone to ring.

Her call came at eleven. We talked until dawn. By morning I was in love with Claire Hamilton, and I think she was in love with me.

Claire and Jeremy made their separation legal. They took turns taking care of Aidan and Glory. She got her own apartment. I spent more time there than I did at my own apartment. Lacking any alternative words, little Glory started calling us both "mama." I'd never aspired to being a mama, but I was devoted to Claire. I grew to love the children dearly.

One day we took Glory and Aidan to the zoo. Afterward we dropped them off at Jeremy's penthouse. He lived in a beautiful old building. When we walked through the door, Jeremy sat in an armchair, dressed from neck to Italian shoes in black. He looked stylish and forbidding.

Claire walked around the penthouse as if she still lived there. I stayed a step behind her, hoping she would formally introduce me to Jeremy. But when I met Jeremy's eyes, I could tell that he wasn't interested in being cordial. His cold blue eyes spoke of hate. He said nothing to me or to Claire, but asked Aidan, "How did you like the zoo?"

I slunk toward the door, but Claire caught me by the arm.

"It's hot today," she said. "I'd like to freshen up a little." She looked at Jeremy. "That okay with you?"

He didn't look at her, but sort of grunted a yes. Aidan told him all about the elephants as Glory went straight for the toy box.

"Nice view," I said, pretty much to myself, as I looked out the window. My eyes shifted to the powder room door. I hoped Claire would hurry.