Checked Again (31 page)

After
minutes of this, minutes of silence, he speaks.

“Let’s
get you to sleep.”

He
starts “cooking” Chicken Francaise. After he gets it in the oven, I pretend to
fall asleep. Another lie.

But
I can’t sleep. Can’t stop thinking about the dishonesty between us.

I
wait until I hear him breathing deeply, sleeping. Then I wait a few more
minutes.

And
then, I slowly remove myself from his arms and slide out of bed. I grab the
remote control and turn on the television—turn on a young guy in hot chef pants
making Chicken Piccata.

Then,
carefully, quietly, I slide back into bed. Back into his arms. Back into a
tangle of unspoken “stuff.”

Chapter
20

lying
again

TODAY
HAS BEEN ALL ABOUT lying. All. About. Lying.

And
I didn’t get back into town, back home, until about an hour ago.

And
it’s 8:00 p.m. I’ve missed confession.

So
I’ve written down a list of my lies…a timeline of dishonesty. And I’ve been
reading it over and over again for the last half hour…hoping to be forgiven.
Hoping that he’s forgiven for his lies, too.

Hoping
to make the lying stop.

Lies

·
     
5:00
a.m. When we woke up in each other’s arms, neither of us brought up our
conversation from last night. Both of us kept holding back information. Kept
lying.

·
     
5:03
a.m. When we quickly talked it over, we decided that it would be best for him
to head back to his own hotel room so Mandy and Melanie wouldn’t find out that
he had spent the night. We decided to lie…again.

·
     
Around
7:40 a.m. When Melanie came over, she asked how my night was. I said,
“
It was okay.
”
Another lie. It was better than okay. Well, the first part anyway. That was
much better than okay. Then later…during the silence…the minutes and hours of
deceitful silence…well, that was worse than okay.

·
     
Around
7:50 a.m. When he came over and walked with Melanie and me down to the first
floor, we continued to pretend that nothing was going on with us. We continued
to lie.

·
     
After
my first session. Around 10:00 a.m. When Dr. Gabriel came over to tell me that
I looked upset, when he asked me what was wrong, I said two things:
“
Nothing
”
and
“
I’m fine.
”
Lies. Lies. Lies. No mention of the fact that I
was upset about, well, other lying…and worried about my upcoming plane ride…and
nervous about my sisters’ earlier scheduled flight…and irritated that he was
standing so near to me…

·
     
After
my last conference session. Around 12:15 p.m. When Dr. Gabriel and Kate walked
over to talk to me about the upcoming closing conference luncheon, I got ready
to lie…ready to tell them that I was looking forward to it. My lie was
interrupted by my phone ringing. Still, I had the intention to lie.

·
     
Around
12:16 p.m. When Melanie called, she asked me to tell another lie. She asked me
to tell Dr. Gabriel that I had a family emergency…that I had to get home early.
Then she told me that she had changed my flight…that I would be flying home
with Mandy and her…and with Dr. Blake. And…I did it. I lied to Dr. Gabriel and
Kate.

·
     
Around
3:00 p.m. When we were on the plane going home, he lied as he sat beside me. He
kept telling me that everything would be okay. He also told me that the plane
wouldn’t crash. How could he have known that for sure?

·
     
Around
6:00 p.m. When we parted at the airport…when he went to his car and I went with
my sisters, he lied again. He said it again—that everything would  be okay.
Even though we just kept lying.

I
read my lies, our lies, over and over and over again.

Eventually,
I unpack my travel bag. Then I read my story of lies again. I write my last
article and send it to Dr. Hause. Then I read the lies again.

Then…then,
it’s time for my night routine. I check the thermostat. Then I read the lies.
Next up, I check the stove. Then I read the lies.

Door
lock checking. Lie reading. Blind closing. Lie reading. Alarm setting. Lie
reading. And so on.

My
routine takes much longer than normal. But I eventually finish it. I turn on
the television and crawl into bed, wearing last night’s pajamas and gripping my
list in my hand.

I
read my lies three more times.

I
still don’t feel better. I feel guilty. And nervous. And shaky. I don’t feel
forgiven.

And
I won’t be forgiven—even if I confess all of this to a priest—because the lies
haven’t stopped.

They
aren’t going to stop.

Because
I can’t tell him. I just can’t.

He’ll
be beyond miserable. And he’ll morph me into the same person as his mother
again. And then he’ll leave again.

And
then…after he’s gone…I’ll just end up lying again. People will ask me how I am,
how I’m handling things, and I won’t want to talk about it. About him.

I’ll
lie. I’ll say that I’m fine.

So
the lying is going to continue either way. And my soul is going to continue to
be in jeopardy. And I’m probably—

WAIT.

Wait.
Wait.

Unless…

Unless
the reason for my lying goes away…

I
jump out of bed, toss my list on my dresser, and turn off my television.

Then
I sit back on my bed. And think.

Unless
the reason for my lying goes away.

It
can go away. I can make it go away. I can do this.

I
will do this.

Now.
Right now.

The
music has to go.
{Don McLean begins
“
American P—
”
}

Callie!

Okay.
I sit and concentrate…concentrate on putting silence in my head.

An
infusion of quiet.

Infusion.
Infusion. Infusion.

I
settle back against my pillow and close my eyes.

Concentrate,
Callie. Concentrate.

No
music. No music. No music.

{Michael
Crawford, dressed in a mask and cape, paddles in on a boat, singing
“The Music of
the Night”
to a woman in a white—}

NO!

My
eyes jolt back open.

I
stare at the black, blank television screen in front of me. Stare. Stare.
Stare.

One.
Two. Three. Stare. One. Two. Three. Stare. One. Two. Three. Stare.

My
eyes lose their focus, but I keep staring.

{Puddle
of Mudd comes in with
“Blurry
.
”
They sing the refrain over and
over again a—}

WAIT!
Ugh.

I
rip myself out of bed and begin pacing the room, knowing that this behavior,
this decision to leave my bed, will probably result in my having to redo my
night routine.

And
that freaking blows. But I can’t worry about that just yet. I still have work
to do.

I
pace back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And forth. Back. And
forth.

{Puddle
of Mudd continues to sing the entire time I pace.}

This
isn’t working.

I
continue to pace, but I start to coach myself out loud as I move…trying to
drown out any sounds from my head.

“No
songs, Callie. No songs. No songs. No—”

{Andrea
Bocelli fills my head with the refrain of
“Sogno
.
”
I don’t notice
at first…not until I realize that I’m saying
“
No songs
”
to the
beat of his music.}

DAMN
IT, CALLIE.

DAMN
IT. DAMN IT.

Time
for a new technique.

I
throw myself back on my bed. Face down. I smash my head into my pillow. I use
my fingers to plug my ears.

Okay.
If I can just stay like this and not hear. Not hear. Not hear.

Think
silence. Think silence.

{Cake
starts singing
“Never
There”
and—}

CALLIE!

I
pound my head into the pillow, press my fingers even deeper into my
ears…probably causing some sort of brain damage or something—

Stop
it!

Think
silence. Think silence. Silence.

{Bj
ö
rk sweetly,
softly, begins
“It’s
Oh So Quiet
.
”
}

AHHH.

I
roll over on my bed, unlodge my fingers from my ears, and grab the remote
control. I turn on the television, listen longingly for a second to the
familiar food channel voices, and then quickly change the station.

I
push the channel up button until I reach the first music station.

And
it’s a country station. Not my favorite.

Doesn’t
matter.

I
turn the volume up. Up. Up. Up.

Big
& Rich. Blaring. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).”

Hmm…I
actually like this song.

Quick
decision. Different technique. I get off the bed and start to dance.

Focus
on
this
song.
Dance.
Hear
this
beat.
Dance.
These
words.
Dance.

I
keep moving around, dancing around, for a few minutes, but it doesn’t matter.
It’s not working.
{Now Big & Rich and Bj
ö
rk are singing at the
same time. Bj
ö
rk is dancing around to the fast refrain of her song and
horses are galloping around her.}

This
is freaking ridiculous.

I
stop dancing.

Without
bothering to turn off the television, I try another technique.

I
walk around the room again, but this time I count out loud as I walk.

“One.”
Step. “Two.” Step. “Three.” Step.

{Big
& Rich and Bj
ö
rk keep singing.
The horses keep galloping.}

Louder,
Callie.

“ONE.”
Step. “TWO.” Step. “THREE.” Step.

{Still
singing. Still galloping.}

LOUDER.

I
yell now. “ONE.” Stomp foot. “TWO.” Stomp other foot. “THR—”

“What
the hell, Callie?”

I
put my left foot back down on the floor and turn slowly toward the doorway to
face Mandy. She is staring at me as she holds her cell phone up to her ear.
Must be talking to Josh.

Mandy
looks amused. Confused. A little worried.

I
just bite my lip and then mouth the word “sorry” before forcing a smile on my
face…a smile to let her know that she shouldn’t worry.

Fortunately,
it works. She walks away, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

{The
All-American Rejects blast in with
“Gives You Hell
.
”
}

I
fall back onto my bed.

Finished.

Done.

{Dido
makes an appearance, singing
“White Flag
.
”
}

Chapter
21

the
day before

SUNDAY
MORNING. I WAKE UP to a buzzing noise.

I
reach over to my dresser to grab my phone.

I
have one text message. From him.

One.
Two. Three. Open.

Day
One starts tomorrow.

I need you to make
me three promises before we start.        

1.) Promise to stop
calling me “Dr. Blake.”

2.) Promise not to
go on any medication without talking to me first.

3.) Promise to tell
me right away if you ever get the sensation that music is somehow trapped in
your mind.

Shit.

{Oh,
Damien.}