Exposed: A Novel (18 page)

Chapter 43
Ally

Journal on my lap, I waited on the couch for Jessie to get home from his appointment with a client.

Dear God,

Thank you for this baby. At first I wanted to throw my fists in the air and ask you a million times why you chose now of all times for us to have a baby. But now I know that it was the perfect time. This baby is helping our marriage heal. I don’t know how yet, but I feel closer to him.

It’s still hard. Sometimes I feel hopeless. I am trying though. I really am.

My insecurities today:

1.) Naturally, I’m not what Jessie likes physically.

2.) I don’t look like those girls on his computer.

3.) I’m afraid my pregnancy will make me look even worse.

4.) I don’t dress in those four-inch heels he likes.

5.) My hair is too frizzy.

6.) My lips aren’t big enough.

7.) My nose is too big.

8.) You know my physical insecurities from head to toe.

9.) I’m not enough to captivate his heart.

Please help me. Help me to not care if he finds other women attractive. Help me to not care if he likes attributes that I don’t have. I want to rest, especially for the baby.

More than anything, help me to stop focusing on myself. I’m so tired of myself. I don’t want to care about outward beauty. I don’t want to need validation from men, even my husband. I want to find my value only in you. Why is that so hard?

I hear Jessie. Be back soon. Thank you for this baby!

Allyson

Jessie held my hand as we drove to the OBGYN of Upper Chesapeake Hospital. I pretended not to see the provocative billboard we drove passed. But I watched Jessie out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t seem to look.

Phew.

I relaxed my back and watched for more billboards.

As we neared our exit on I-695 Jessie squeezed my hand. “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about names until we were in the third trimester, but I’m curious to know which ones you like.”

“I don’t know.”

“But maybe it would be nice to have a name chosen for a child, even if we do have a miscarriage.”

I slid my hand from his and looked ahead. Normally I would’ve turned to the right and stared out the window, but I had a paranoia about him seeing a beautiful woman or a sexy billboard. I wanted to make sure I saw what he saw. Maybe I liked torturing myself. Not sure why. Pencils shoved in my eyeballs would’ve been more bearable than the emotional charley horses I gave myself.

Jessie parked in front of the office building adjacent to the hospital and held my chin. “You excited?”

I allowed myself to smile amidst one of my emotional spasms.

Jessie rubbed my cheek with his thumb and gave me his eyes—romantic, hopeful eyes. For a moment, I bathed in the sunshine of his love without thinking of rain. His eyes, his hand on my face, the tiny baby growing inside of me—I longed to be sodden with the present and not swept away by a flood if Jessie looked at something again.

We walked inside, signed in, and sat in the waiting room until smooth blonde hair walked across the room. Jessie looked at his hands and fidgeted with his keys.

“Allyson Graham? You can follow me.” The blonde said.

Are you kidding me, God?

Jessie’s eyes darted everywhere but the pretty little blonde’s body. We followed her down an off-white hallway covered in pictures of moms and babies. She weighed me. 127lbs. I wondered how much she weighed.

“Is this your first baby?” she asked Jessie.

He stared at the ground and nodded.

She showed him our room and told me to go pee on a stick and test my something-something levels. I didn’t listen. I went in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. After waiting a few seconds, I flushed the toilet I never peed in and went to the room where Jessie sat, his eyes fixated on his shoes.

Miss Gorgeous asked questions. I answered.

“Your midwife will be in soon.” She smiled and left the room.

Jessie pressed his lips together and refused to look at me. I hopped off the exam table and stood in front of him. He stared at my feet.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
My heart. In my throat.

Jessie tilted his head and scratched it.

“More beautiful than me, isn’t she?” I said.

He huffed.

“It’s obvious. You were acting so weird.”

“I didn’t look at her.”

“No?” I laughed. “Well, you sure had fun trying not to look at her. Was she that pretty? So gorgeous you had to fidget with your keys the entire time and stare at your feet.”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I just didn’t want to make you think I looked at her.”

The door opened. My heart flopped around my chest like a fish yearning for water. Jessie looked down.

“Good morning.” Our midwife said, tipping her red glasses down. “I’m Lisa. How’s everybody feeling today?”

If only she knew.

I skated around her question with a smile. She continued to talk to us, making us excited about the miracle of life inside of me.

After explaining screening tests, healthy foods, and things to avoid she placed her glasses on the tip of her nose and said, “Alrighty, you three. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

I looked at Jess. He tried to smile. And together we watched Lisa walk away, her bright red sneakers shining underneath her long blue-checkered dress. Southern, sweet, and quirky—she brought laughter to our tense marriage. For that, I enjoyed her presence.

Jess didn’t talk much on the ride home. We listened to music and stared at the cars ahead of us. Flashes of Miss Gorgeous appeared in my mind at random times. I’d tell myself to stop thinking about her, but instead I’d reevaluate her body in detail, then ask myself how I got to be so immature.

By the time we got home I wanted to curl up on the couch and watch a movie or read a book, anything to run away from reality.

In silence, we walked inside.

Jessie checked his email while I sat on the couch. Neither of us knew how to break through the silence anymore. He feared me. I feared reality.

I pulled our beige throw over my legs and peered over the couch at Jessie. He looked up at me with those I’m hurt eyes, like all the life drained from them and he needed my love to fill them back up.

“Can I tell you something?” I said.

He stopped clicking his mouse and walked into the living room.

“You can sit with me.”

He sat down near my feet.

“I’ve been seeing my Dad, Jess.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Basically, Mom told Dad that I wasn’t his child to get him to leave. She was having an affair.” I choked on words I wished I didn’t have to say, ever. “She wanted out, so she lied. Dad left because it hurt too much and he wanted her to choose him. So he waited. And waited. And he’s still waiting.”

Jessie scooted toward me and pulled my shoulders into his chest. Pressing my head into his neck, I begged myself not to cry. But my emotions surged like an unstoppable volcano, its lava molten and ready to erupt. I squeezed Jessie’s arm and wept louder than I ever had in my life.

Childhood memories whirled by like a summer breeze. The smell of freshly cut grass. Dad’s tan arms pushing a mower across the lawn as I drew on the sidewalk with chalk. His smile as he looked at me every few minutes. The way he ran to me when he finished and twirled me around the yard.

Each memory shoved Mom’s arrow further into my heart.

I covered my salty face with my hands. He cradled me like a baby. And I moaned and cried.

“You know what gets me the most?” I sucked in a mouthful of air. “Do you remember how upset I was that I didn’t have a dad to walk me down the aisle?”

Jessie dried a tear as it tripped over his eyelid.

“This is why”—I gasped for air—“it’s so hard for me to smile right now. It’s not just the porn thing. It’s everything.” I blinked, trying to see Jess through blurry streaks. “Too many lies.”

Chapter 44
Taylor

Maybe I felt bad for lying to Naomi. I don’t know. Whatever the reason, I went to church with her and Lee. What a wonderful experience. Not. I should’ve turned around and walked out of the building when I counted the eleventh person to give me a dirty look.

Faces. They looked me up and down, like Andy, only with disapproving eyes.

“Did you see her skirt?” an older woman said.

“Why would someone dress like that in church?” a mom with a baby on her hip said.

“Did you see her hair? Has she ever brushed it?” a younger girl said.

The men didn’t say anything, but some of them looked at me like every other man I knew. They couldn’t get past my plastic chest to see my bleeding heart.

Naomi ushered me into the sanctuary. And by sanctuary I mean auditorium. Rows and rows of comfy chairs lined up in the humongous room. The stage, lit by overhead lights, had tons of instruments, and what I assumed to be a million choir seats. A large cross hung in the back, glowing with red and orange lights.

I sat down after Naomi, about three rows from the back.

“You are loved,” she said.

Loved? Did you see the 922 nasty looks I got when I walked in here? I wanted to say.

Everyone stood and sang songs. Some people raised their hands, others yawned. Naomi closed her eyes and sang. I could barely hear her, but her lips moved with the lyrics. Kinda strange to me. I heard her sing in the car and in her apartment several times and she sounded like Mariah Carey without the high pitch thing. She sang better than most people around me.

Everyone sat. A few men collected money in baskets. Then a tall man with a suit and tie stood behind the podium and prayed. I looked around. Some people prayed, but quite a few stared around the room, looking at others, yawning, analyzing their fingernails—you name it. A guy about my age even played Tetris on his cell phone.

When it came time for the preacher to talk I tried to pay attention, but I couldn’t. People’s faces distracted and often disturbed me. A few people wore smiles, but a lot of them looked worse than me. Not their clothing, of course. They had sunken faces—broken and sad and so much like me.

What was the point of their religion if they didn’t have joy?

I couldn’t imagine why so many people gave me dirty looks. Church didn’t seem like a holy, authentic place. It seemed like a place for a bunch of people to hide their pain behind fake smiles.

So, I wondered, how could they could judge me?

Maybe I was one of them, but not really. I didn’t know Jesus and I didn’t want to. I preferred being wrecked and unhappy, instead of wrecked with a mask. I knew masks well. I wore one every time I made porn.

Naomi and I left her church after she tried to introduce me to people. They all ended the conversation to walk away and talk to someone else. Except for February. I’m not kidding you, the guy’s name was February, but Naomi called him Feo. Poor guy.

Earthy and real, he was the only person in the entire church to look into my eyes and say, “Nice to meet you, Jen.” My name of the moment.

He was also one of the only people without a perfectly pressed outfit. I liked him. Not in that way. He wasn’t attractive to me and I didn’t want a relationship, especially with a religious person, but his eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t describe. Not like Andy’s confident twinkle. Something more. Something I couldn’t figure out no matter how long I stared at him, so I just gave the credit to Rembrandt.

Anyway, Naomi and I got into her car, and she turned up the music.

Humid air whipped our hair around our faces as we sang together. For once, I felt like a normal nineteen-year-old girl.

Naomi stopped at Rite-Aid to get some snacks and drinks for our trip to Rocks State Park. I waited in the car, hoping to avoid any chance of seeing Andy.

When I saw him park beside her car, my body turned to Jell-O. He had another woman with him. The Jell-O turned rock hard. My body tightened all over. Even my eyes tensed. I turned away when he got out of the car, then watched Andy and his woman walk into Rite-Aid holding hands.

My eyes filled with tears, but I could still see them clearly holding hands, their arms swaying back and forth, laughing in the rays of sun.

He held her hand in public.

Naomi opened the car door.

I forced a smile.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, eyes open, ears ready to do a good deed.

I shook my head and thought of Andy.

The woman holding his hand looked like me. Only better.

Perry Hall to Rocks State Park in Fallston is a long drive. At least it felt that way after seeing Andy strolling around winking at that gorgeous woman. So annoying.

Naomi sang to her music, everything from Queen to En Vogue, and I spaced out, imagining 501 ways to get back at Andy. Until Naomi walked me down a dirt path through the woods. We walked over rocks, down a few hills, over a bridge, and finally I saw it.

It wasn’t a huge waterfall or anything, but it was the only one I’d ever seen in real life. We sat down on a rock in front of the gushing water. Naomi pulled a few snacks and drinks out of her bag and leaned back on her hands.

I loved that she never forced me to talk. She let us live in silence without a hint of awkwardness. She was there. Just there. And I loved that about her.

Hushhh. Hushhh.

I looked up. Beyond the falling water to the baby blue sky. The sun reached through the trees, grabbing everything in its way. Closing my eyes, I listened. And when I opened them I knew I didn’t want revenge. Not with Andy. I loved him too much to treat him the way he treated me.

He needs me, I thought. I can change him. Help him heal.

Streams of water smoothed over rocks, crashed into the brook, and misted my bare feet.

“I need to go back to my Dad tonight,” I said.

Naomi looked up. “Oh, I know. Do you need to leave now?”

I nodded. I guess I didn’t need to leave right that moment, but I wanted to get back to Andy as soon as possible.

Naomi gathered her things and stood. She gave me a hand to get up, but I pretended not to see it.

We drove down Route 1, this time without music.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay?” Naomi said.

“Yes.”

She gave silence room to talk. And whoa, did it talk! I imagined Andy’s face when I’d walk up to him and tell him I loved him, no matter what he did to me. If I could show him faithfulness and love, maybe his heart would heal and he’d show the same to me. He had to love me a little. All of those times he played with my hair and told me he loved me—they had to be real moments of love.

We merged onto Harford Road and Naomi crushed the silence.

“Jen,” she said. “I know you haven’t told me the truth. And I’m not asking you to.” She stopped at a red light. “But I know your heart is searching for something to fill you right now. You’re looking in the wrong places though.”

My chest flushed with heat. “You don’t know me.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t know you. But I would love to know the real you, the you behind all of your pain.”

I pressed my eyebrows together and clenched my teeth. She didn’t know anything about me.

“I’m here. You know where I live, and I’m going to give you my phone number before you get out of this car.”

She kept her promise. On a torn out paper form her journal, she wrote her number and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said, stuffing it in my pocket. Not that I’ll need it, I thought.

I mumbled something that sounded like a goodbye and got out of her car. I’m sure she had her suspicions about dropping me off at Walgreens, but she didn’t put up a fight.

As I walked from her car, I wondered if she felt good about what she did. Not once did she bring up Jesus, at least not in a way most religious people did to me. People always shoved the “Salvation Prayer” in my face. Once I even said the prayer and pretended to believe just to make the person get all crazy and excited.

I felt bad. A little. But Sadie said it, not me.

I walked into Walgreens and went to the bathroom to freshen up. I even bought some makeup with the last few dollars I had in my purse.

After fixing myself up, I walked to Andy’s, hoping the other girl wouldn’t be there when I showed up. And if so, I’d pretend to love her too. Just to make Andy want me again.

The sun still hadn’t set as I walked down back roads, which made me sweat. I wanted to get home before Andy, change my clothes, and put on my I’ll-do-anything-for-you smile.

Finally, I made it to his house.

His convertible sparkled in the driveway.

Home. He was home.

Now what?

I turned the front door knob. Locked.

I peered in the house. Not a person in sight. Arms crossed, I sat on his front step and tapped my foot on the pavement.