A Life More Complete (39 page)

His voice turns quiet and the ragged
breathing makes it far too difficult for me to handle. In the time I’ve known
Ben he has never once cried in front of me. It breaks my heart to see him like
this. His voice is flat as he speaks and he can’t look at me, but when he does
my whole body physically hurts. I want to take his pain away, ease his
loneliness, but I can’t. What’s worse is knowing that after everything he has
been through, I caused him even more pain. I broke his already fragile heart.

“I came home from work and found his
car running in the garage. Krissy, it nearly killed me.” I’ve made every
attempt at holding it together for him, but that’s over. I’m sobbing as Ben
leans over and pulls me into his arms. I feel his body racked with heaving sobs
as he presses his face into my neck. We sit like this for what feels like hours
before he pulls away from me. “He left a note that said he couldn’t do it
anymore. In a way I don’t blame him. She was his life, his everything and my
brother and I were just reminders of her. I can’t even begin to fathom the pain
he was going through when she died. It was extremely difficult for my brother
and me, but for him, it was on a whole different level. He didn’t have to love
her. He chose her and it was almost like he knew from the moment he met her
that he’d love her with so much force that it would hurt. I have so much guilt
that I carry around. I could have saved him, but I didn’t even try. I was so
wrapped up in forgetting her that I couldn’t see I was losing him too.”

“Ben, don’t do that to yourself. You
can’t beat yourself up over something like this. You have no idea what was
going through your father’s head. Maybe he didn’t want to be saved.” I want to
pull him into my arms and hold him and tell him I love him, but I don’t. I can’t
take advantage of his vulnerability.

 
“True. But I could’ve tried. I’ve put
everything into my dad’s business as a way to keep him alive. I know he’d be
amazed at how much the business has grown and how hard I work, but it still
hurts from time to time.” He smiles again and this time it feels authentic. “I’m
sorry that I unloaded all of this on you when I should be consoling you.”

“No. Please don’t apologize. You
needed someone to tell and I’m glad it was me.” I return his smile. “What I can’t
believe is that you somehow managed to finish school during all of this.”

“I made a promise to my mom and even
in death she scared the shit out of me. I didn’t want her coming back and
haunting me,” he says jokingly. “It sucked, but I did it, not to mention paying
tuition at Texas A&M for four years, too. Someone had to see Josh through
to end.”

“Ben, you really are amazing. You are
going to make some woman extremely happy one day.”

“Yeah,” he says with more static than
his usual tone, “but it won’t be you.”

I look down at my hands and begin to
pick my cuticles. I don’t know how to respond. I put myself in this
predicament, so I can’t blame him when he fires back. I close my eyes and
exhale hard. “We can’t do this to each other. We can’t battle back and forth. It’s
wrong.”

“I’m sorry. That was a low blow,” he
says as he leaves the bed. He puts on his shoes and I rise and walk toward the
door with him. “Thanks Krissy. I really appreciate it.”

“No, thank you. Only a true friend
would drop everything to be here.” I rise up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms
around his neck. He pulls me against his body and his arms tighten around me. As
I pull back something that feels so natural, so normal happens. Our lips meet
far too long to be considered a peck but just shy of inappropriate. I lean away
and my hand instinctively moves to cover my lips. Everything in my body changes
and what feels like a low hum takes over. My body buzzes with Ben’s touch the
same way it did in the past. I can only manage a few words before he steps out
the door, “Good night, Ben.”

“Good night, Krissy.”

Ben walks out leaving me breathless. I
check my phone out of guilt. But like always there’s nothing. The feeling
builds and the anxiety looms, like an ominous cloud. My neurosis, something I’ve
never been able to get a firm handle on takes over. Even in his absence Tyler
still controls me, my thoughts, my feelings, they all belong to him. I can’t
shake the feeling that I just cheated on him. But did I? I didn’t sleep with
Ben. Nothing but a simple kiss was exchanged and words that held a strong
meaning, but no actual sexual exchange took place. Yet, as much as I try to
rationalize my thoughts I know what I did is far worse than the actual act of
cheating. I have a connection with Ben. It’s the kind that will remain long
after everything is said and done, it will hold true, it’s a love that lasts,
but will somehow remain unrequited. It’s the worst kind.

Thursday morning, I find myself in
the passenger seat of my rental with a quiet but friendly Ben sitting next me. In
the lengthy morning commute to O’Hare neither one of us mentions our momentary
lapse in judgment. We shuffle through security, board the plane and touch down
at LAX in what seems like record time. As the wheels bounce along the runway, I
want to scream. I want to yell for the pilot to stop the plane, to give me just
ten more minutes, that’s all I need. I just want ten more minutes with Ben. Just
being next to him is calming and comforting, but it needs to end. This plane is
all that separates me from the rest of my life. When the door to the plane
opens to the waiting jet bridge, people begin to scatter. Grabbing bags from
the overhead bin, anxious to exit the airless plane. At least that’s the way it
feels. I can’t breath correctly; my chest is tightening with each tiny breath I
take, yet no matter what, I can’t seem to suck in a full breath. Ben rises and
pulls my bag from the overhead bin, yet I can’t move. I take the suitcase from
his hands, pulling up on the handle; I drag it behind like I’ve done so many
times before. We part as soon as we exit the jet bridge both of us veering in
opposite directions. Ben leaves me with a slight nod and I smile weakly.

It’s over. I push my sunglasses down
and cry. My car ride is slow and methodical. I want it to last forever. I don’t
want to go home. What is left? Nothing. I’m returning home to an empty house
and even if Tyler is home it’s metaphorically empty. All I have is a
misconceived baby coupled with a marriage that is built off of a never-ending
fight and past love. It’s far from perfect, but it’s all I have left.

Tyler is at work when I finally
arrive home. It’s only noon and I know he will be there for at least another
ten hours. It’s been a week since he hung up on me in my hotel room. He hasn’t
called and I, too held firm only sending a text to notify him of my impending
flight home. It is beginning to feel childish, even more so now that I’m home. I
wonder how long we can go without speaking especially now that I’m here. I
change into my running clothes knowing that a run will clear my head and
eviscerate my clouded thoughts.

Two hours later I stand panting in
the driveway in front of Tyler’s car. Although exhausted, I sprint up the
stairs two at a time and burst though the door.

“Ty!” I yell.

He appears in the doorway of the
bedroom, his blonde curls just skimming his ears as he pulls his hand through
his hair. I dissolve into his arms.

“I wanted to be here when you got
home. I was running late.” His arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of
my head. I can feel him shake his head as he pulls away. “Will you just take
the fucking car? Please,” he says as he pulls me into the bedroom.

“Yes,” I whisper without preamble.

This is the crux of our entire
relationship. It’s built on sex and gifts as a way to resolve a disagreement,
but it all eventually leads to nothing being resolved. This is no different. It’s
Tyler’s peace offering and I take it because I always do.

It only takes a few weeks and we are
back where we started. If we aren’t fighting it’s because one of us is at work
or out of town or too busy. Rarely are we together long enough to argue. I
throw myself into the one thing that consumes more of my time than arguing with
Tyler. Work. The price of ambition is late hours; countless days spent making
phone calls, visiting clients, traveling and everything that goes along with
being successful. My job is easy to get lost in and in its own way it is the
love of my life. It needs me like nothing else. Being needed feels good even
when it is for reasons that are completely selfish. My clients don’t care about
my feelings or my personal life. They are not my friends or my family, but they
need me like an alcoholic needs booze. And I do it because it helps me forget
the mess that has become my life.

Just like everything in my life, the
happiness fades quickly. I find myself at the end of September rather quickly. I’m
lying on the exam table for my ultrasound with my BlackBerry in hand waiting
for Tyler to call or at least to give some indication as to why he is late. But
nothing and the annoyance on the tech’s face is blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry, but I have other
appointments. I can’t wait much longer,” she says trying to mask her aggravation.

I quickly glance at the time. A half
an hour has passed since my appointment time. “No, please don’t be sorry. I
apologize. Please start.” I can hear the humiliation in my voice and I fight
back the tears.

The screen comes to life and the tech
tucks a paper napkin into the front of my pants before splattering my belly
with warm gel. She smears the gel around with the paddle before beginning. Her
tone is less annoyed when she asks me if I want to know the sex of the baby.

“No. I’d like it to be a surprise,” I
say, yet part of me feels I need a small amount of news that would cheer me up
but I stick with my original plan.

She flips a switch and there in front
of me is my baby. My little nugget is floating around content and sucking his
or her thumb.

“There’s your baby,” she says with a
small smile on her face. I was able to hear my baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler
starting at eight weeks, but nothing compares to being able to see this life I
created come alive on a screen. I felt Nugget move for the first time around
fifteen weeks and it’s something I long to feel throughout my day. It’s like a
small surprise that makes me stop and smile no matter where I am or what I’m
doing. This whole process has been surreal, yet eye opening. I can’t even
fathom that there are people, including my mother, who didn’t feel an instant
connection to the life that was growing inside of them.

As the tech goes through the usual
procedural measurements and pictures, I’m mesmerized. As much as I wish that
Tyler had gotten his shit together to be here with me I know he’d have ruined
this moment.

The tech prints me a series of
pictures labeled with small arrows indicating body parts and cute little
phrases. I thank her and rush back to the office to share my pictures with
Melinda.

Things with Melinda have gotten
better. Not normal, but better. It’s nearly impossible to avoid someone for an
extended period of time when they’re always around. Showing up at work and
having to see her made the forgiveness simpler. Saying good morning, talking to
clients at meetings, attending functions together helped break the ice and
eventually I forgave her for her temporary bout with dementia. That’s what she
called it. But she did admit it was based more on her need to find someone of
substance. She opened up to me one night after a work dinner.

“I only attract the cream of the
crop,” she said. “The best of the worst is more like it. Losers who want to
have sex and run. For a long time that’s what I wanted, but I really want
something more.”

“You’ll find it. Don’t rush it. Trust
me, it can turn ugly real fast.”

“It’s hard not to rush, but I think
the bigger problem lies in the fact that no one dates the girl who lives off
her father’s money. Who wants to marry that girl? I don’t even pay my own rent.
Imagine admitting that to a guy you’re dating. Talk about an immediate bail.”

“Then stop,” I say, knowing it’s
easier said than done.

“I wish I could. I’m not like you. This
has always been my life. I’m so far from independent. You know I went on a
couple of dates with that guy, Noah, the bartender. It was going really well
and then I bailed on him. Snuck out of his house after his damn oscillating fan
stood mocking me in the corner of the room. It was like it was saying that I
wasn’t even good enough for a bartender.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. It’ll
happen. Be patient.”

I understand what drives Melinda,
which is what led me to forgive her. There was a time when I was so desperate
to be connected to someone. I let it take control and it really didn’t matter
who it was. Her need to be close to someone isn’t all that uncommon. I’ve been
there and not much has changed now.

I barrel through her office door and
find her grinning. Perfect white teeth in a Farah Fawcett style smile waiting
for me.

“Let me see them!” she shouts from
her desk chair. I toss the pictures at her. “Tell me you found out the sex. I’m
dying. No self control whatsoever!”

I’m beaming from ear to ear fueled
even more by her enthusiasm. “Nope. Sorry sister, you’re just gonna have to
wait. Baby will still be known as Nugget.”