A Life More Complete (40 page)

She shakes her head at me. Sliding
the pictures through her fingers she squeals when she comes across the one of
Nugget doing the thumb sucking.

“Did Tyler show up?” she asks full
well knowing the answer.

“No.”

“Asshole,” she mutters, rolling her
eyes.

“No, really it’s fine. He would’ve
just ruined the moment anyway. His interest in the whole thing is practically
zero. Who am I kidding, it is zero.”

“Why do you let him off so easily? You
hold everyone in your life to impeccably high standards including yourself, but
for some reason he gets to slip by without any accountability for his actions? It
doesn’t make any sense.” She takes a deep breath and I know she isn’t finished
with her on-going rant. All I can do is nod in response. I’m weak, but the sad
thing is, I’m not. I’m only weak when it comes to Tyler.

I won’t say anything to him when he
comes home tonight. Confrontation is hard. Going into this I know I have every
right to question his whereabouts, yet during the course of this hypothetical
argument I’m having in my head I begin to question my reasoning. Just thinking
about it makes me anxious and I silently tap my fingers. This is what he does
to me in a way that no one else can.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”
she asks sounding irritated which is justified. “Just leave him already. It’s
obvious you’re going to be doing this alone even if you are still married. If
you’re worried about the money he can’t get out of that part regardless. Child
support. Divorce him and then sue his ass for the thirty percent you’re allowed
by state law. Can you imagine what thirty percent of his salary is? You’d
probably be able to live on just that. I know I could if I were as cheap as you
are.”

“I’m not cheap. I’m frugal. Not
everyone needs sixty pairs of thousand dollar shoes. Not that I’m complaining
about your spending habits. The hand me downs are awesome.”

“Sixty pairs? You’re underestimating.
It’s more like six hundred. I’m trying to cut back. Maybe you could give me
some tips?” she jokes. Her office phone rings and she raises her perfectly
sculpted eyebrows in response. “Strange, that sucker never rings. You’re
standing here, so I know it’s not you.” I shrug my shoulders in response as she
answers. “Melinda Roberts,” she says in her sweetest tone. “Oh, hey Noah.” Her
eyes widen in surprise and her mouth drops open a little. I blow her a quick kiss
and back out of her office closing the door behind me.
    

I scroll through my emails and send a
few quick responses as Ellie walks into my office.

“Kristin,” she says in her
authoritative tone.

“Yeah, Ellie,” I respond back without
turning from my computer screen. Even Ellie and all her bossiness will not ruin
my high.

“I need the minutes from the
production and advertising meeting this morning. Please use the outline format
that was sent in the high importance email last week. You know which one that
is, correct?”

“Yes, Ellie.” As much as Ellie had
softened toward me she could still be incredibly annoying.

“I wasn’t sure since it seemed to
have slipped your mind to respond as requested. Whatever. Just make sure they’re
on my desk by the end of the day. I need three copies and email me the file,
too.”

“Sure, no problem.” Sometimes it’s
easier to just go along with her routine of bitchy, demanding boss than it is
to argue with her over the tone she uses.

Just as she is stepping out of my
office she says, “Oh yeah, I’m leaving at three today, so don’t think you can
come running in at five and drop them on my desk.”

“You’re leaving at three?” The tone
in my voice is a little too obvious. I’m shocked. “Yes. That’s what I said. Don’t
sound so appalled.”

“You never leave early. Anything
going on?” I ask trying not to sound like I’m snooping, but that’s exactly what
I’m doing. Gossip on Ellie is like finding a Bigfoot in the mountains of
Montana.

“How would you know what I do? Do you
track my every move?” She is far too crabby to press the issue.

“Don’t be mean Ellie, I was just curious.”

She calms slightly, “Meeting with a
client. Just trying to keep a story from blowing up. Really nothing exciting.”

“You want some help? I’ve got nothing
going on.”

“No. Just want those minutes and the
longer I stand here talking to you the less likely you will get them done. And
really, if I know you, you won’t start working on them until two thirty because
you’ll have been too busy playing FarmVille or talking to Bob or eating red
velvet cupcakes or my personal favorite, posting Facebook statuses about your,”
she pauses and uses her fingers to quote the last part, “‘sucky ass’ job.”

I close my eyes and pray that she
leaves my office now. I’m that transparent and now I know she likes me because
I should have been canned for my references to my “sucky ass” job that now have
a digital footprint.

“Just a reminder, it’s a work issued
computer. I’m like the Wizard of Oz. All knowing.” I watch her leave my office,
her red ponytail swishing along as she walks.

“Sorry,” I yell.

“No you’re not,” she yells back. True,
totally true.

Ellie left early almost every day
that week, unusual, yes but I tried not to pry, although everyone in the office
secretly came up with their own theories on where she could possibly be. My
favorite one is that she has a family that no one knows about, which I guess
isn’t all that far-fetched. She is a wholly private person, so that theory
doesn’t seem entirely out of the realm of possibility. I preferred to see her having
some kind of clandestine, risqué affair with an older, handsome gentleman. A
man that possibly drives a Bentley and is the C.E.O. and founder of some
fortune 500 company. He whisks her away on his private jet to exotic locales
and buys her lavish gifts and makes her feel wonderful. Yep, I’ve given that
much thought to my boss leaving early. My life does really suck. But in the end
everybody has secrets, so I let hers rest with her.

Tyler and I have spent a minimal
amount of time together since my ultrasound, so when he comes to me a few weeks
before Halloween asking if I’ll attend a party with him I can’t help but feel
pleased.

A week later I’m sitting in my office
contemplating how to phrase a press release for something I feel is completely
idiotic, but still part of my job, when my phone rings.

“Kristin Mullins,” I say, but my tone
reeks of boredom.

“So professional, yet so
uninterested. Love it,” Bob says without so much as a hello.

“Bobby!” I squeal. “To what do I owe
this honor? I hope you’re not calling to cancel on me. We’re having dinner
tonight whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, I just wanted to hear your
beautiful voice and,” he pauses slightly, dragging out his last word for
effect, “I need a huge favor.”

“Anything for you my love, as long as
you’re not canceling on me.”

“Nope, not canceling. So, here it
goes. Jon and I are supposed to go to this Halloween party a girl from work is
throwing. We already RSVP’d and now he has to go out of town. Some work shit,
trade show or I don’t know. I don’t ask anymore. I don’t want to go alone and I’d
feel really bad about not showing up, so I was hoping you’d go with me. Please.”

“Sure,” I say casually.

“Seriously! Thank you so much. You
know you have to wear a costume, right?

“Um, yeah. You said Halloween party.”

“Fabulous! I have the best idea for
our costumes. It’s a couples party, so we need to have coordinating costumes.”

“Really? Can I back out now?”

“No. You’re gonna love this. I
promise. We can go as Rosemary Woodhouse and Dr. Sapirstein. I’ve got the best
pixie wig that was leftover from a commercial that we shot a few weeks back.”

“Rosemary’s Baby? Hell, yes!” I shout
as Maggie leans over the reception desk and looks at me. “I’m in. When’s the
party?”

“Next Saturday at seven. It’s at some
hotel in L.A. I can’t remember which one. I’ll pick you up, so it doesn’t
really matter.”

“Next Saturday? Shit. I’m supposed to
be at some stupid Halloween party with Tyler. A guy he does business with is
having a party at his house in Malibu.”

“You’re kidding me? You have to go with
me. Please! Tell me you love me more.”

“Well, of course I love you more,” I
say placating him and joking at the same time. “Let me figure this out. I’ll
call you back in a few. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Remember that,” Bob
whines.

“Got it.”

I hang up with Bob and quickly call
Tyler’s office getting his annoying assistant. I can’t stand her, more than
likely because she’s cute and young and skinny and doesn’t sweat like a pig
after walking up the stairs. She is as dumb as a box of rocks and every time
she answers the phone it takes everything in me not to ask her how much skill
her job actually requires. I also want to let her know that I’m fully aware
that she was hired solely based on her looks alone and to stop flaunting her
perfect little ass in front of my husband. I keep my mouth shut. I know I’m
pregnant and hormonal, but she still bugs the shit out of me.

“Oh, hey Krissy,” she says her voice
dripping with sweetness. “How are you feeling? Tyler doesn’t say much. My
friend who’s pregnant, her face got so fat. Hopefully yours didn’t.” This is
her idea of conversation. Luckily I’m on the phone with her because I’m not
sure I could handle this discourse in person.

“Not just my face, my ass, too,” I
reply and the sarcasm goes right over her head.

“Oh no. Yucky. Did you want to talk to
Tyler?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“I’ll put you through to him. Can you
hold for just one second?” Before I can answer her she places me on hold. She
returns a few seconds later. This time her voice is not so sweet. I know he
chastised her for interrupting him with something so trivial as his wife
calling. “Krissy? He’s in a meeting right now. Can he call you back later?”

“No, he can’t. Just put me through,
Megan. I know he’s not in a meeting. You wouldn’t have interrupted a meeting
because you know better than that. So just put me though.” This is the only way
I can reach Tyler when he’s at work. I call his direct line and he forwards the
call to Megan. I call his cell and it goes right to voicemail. I’m sure Megan
hates me as much as I hate her. I make her working environment a living hell.

Without thinking twice or even trying
to argue, she puts me though and he picks up on the first ring. “This better be
important. I’m busy,” he says with frustration in his voice.

“Important meeting, huh? Don’t
bullshit me. What time is that party next weekend? The one on Saturday?”

“This is why you’re calling me? I
think we need to discuss what important means. It’s at nine. Why?”

“You should know by now that
everything is important to me. So, here’s the deal. Bob has a party to go to in
L.A. on the same night and he wants me to go with him. It starts at seven, so
what if I go with him and meet you at your work party at ten? Is that cool?”

“Whatever. You don’t have to come
with me. I can go it alone.”

“No. I’ll go. I’ll meet you there at
ten.”

“That’s fine. Glad we could rectify
your pressing situation so quickly.” His tone is now laced with flirtation.

“Thanks, Ty. Will I see you tonight?”

“I don’t know yet. If you stop
bothering me at work I might actually get something done.”

“I’d like you to come home before I’m
asleep. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
  

“Don’t be dramatic. It hasn’t been
weeks. This is my job. You knew this when you married me. I work a lot. What
can I say?”

“Say that you’ll be home tonight.”

“How is it possible that in the same
conversation I can go from wanting to make out with you to wanting to never
speak to you again?”

“Because you love me?” I question
almost looking for reassurance.

“Guess so,” he says. “I gotta go.”

Before I can say good-bye he hangs
up. I call Bob back and give him the good news, which makes him sing my name
and tell me he loves me.

Saturday comes quickly and I’m
standing in front of the bathroom mirror dressed in a blue and white smocked
apron dress, ballet flats and the perfect blonde pixie cut wig.

Tyler’s on the couch with his feet
crossed at the ankles watching some guy on television rebuild an old car when I
walk into the room. He takes me in with his eyes and smirks, but there’s still
a genuine affection for me in his eyes. It’s times like this when he looks at
me and I can feel the energy between us that makes me think we will make it
after all.

“You look adorable,” he says taking
me in his arms. “I love the blonde wig. Sexy as hell.” His voice is seductive
and there is something indecent in his touch. I can’t get close enough to him.
My body aches to touch him. I long for it. Unfortunately, my burgeoning belly
creates a barrier and my arms just barely reach his shoulders. I rise up on my
toes and kiss the end of his nose.