Fragile Bonds (2 page)

“Well, that’s good to hear. Now, why don’t you pull up a chair and tell me something about yourself. I might not be in any shape to run a marathon, but I promise, we’re going to have plenty of time to get to know one another.” She smiles
faintly and I get the impression she’s more trying to convince herself than me.

As I
reach for the door, I hear Alyssa asking Melanie to sit with her so they can get to know one another. I’m not certain how I feel about this because I’ve spent six years avoiding talking about anything to do with my time with Melanie. Having her in the house again is fucking with my head, but if I call the agency and request a different companion, Alyssa will ask questions. I only hope that Melanie was sincere when she guaranteed me she can be professional at all times when she’s on the job.

No matter how much I tell myself to turn and walk away, I can’t take a single step. I lean against the door jamb, trying to hear Melanie’s melodic voice as she
rattles off her credentials. I don’t need to hear them because the only accomplishment I was not around for was the day she received her Master’s degree.

“Look, Melanie
, I’m not sure if you got the memo, but I’m dying.” My heart clenches at my wife’s words. As unconventional as the beginning of our marriage might have been, I can’t bear the thought of the day I wake up and she’s no longer here. “I’ve had some of the best doctors in the world treating me and they told me there’s nothing more they can do at this point, so truthfully, I’m not sure how much good any fancy degrees or anything like that are going to do me. I want to know about you. You’re going to be my sidekick from now until the end, so I think we should know something about one another.”

My ears perk up, waiting to hear what Melanie will say next. I can almost see her picking her nails, trying to think of something safe to share. “There really isn’t all that much,” she responds. “I spend so much of my time with my clients, I usually go home, have a glass of wine and curl up with my dog for the night. Sometimes, my friend Stacey manages to drag me out of the house to a concert, but that’s rare.”

Fingernails dig into my palms as I clench my fists at the sound of that woman’s name crossing Melanie’s lips. I shouldn’t care, but it bothers me that she and Stacey are still friends. The selfish part of me likes to think that Melanie was upset enough by what happened with us that she realized her best friend is a bad influence. Hopefully, Stacey has matured over the years, but I’m not holding my breath.

“No boyfriend waiting for you to come home?” My stomach roils at the very thought of Melanie being with another man. I lean in closer,
needing
this answer more than any other.

“No, I don’t date,” she says flatly.
I release the breath I had been holding as I waited for her answer, relieved in a twisted way that there isn’t anyone in her life. It’s not that I don’t want her to be happy, but I’d rather not have to admit that someone else can give her everything when I failed her.

“Are you kidding me? You’re freaking beautiful, I can’t believe the guys aren’t pounding down your door for a chance to win your heart.” Lovely, now Alyssa is going to start digging to get to the root of why Melanie doesn’t date. I just have to hope those roots are shallow and have to do with a recent heartbreak.

“Oh, there have been guys who have tried, but I don’t really see myself as the type of girl who is going to find her Prince Charming any time soon.” Her words hang low in the air as neither woman speaks. Knowing that Alyssa is awake and Melanie is with her, I turn back to the kitchen, needing a minute before facing the only two women I’ve ever loved sitting next to one another.

“So, how was the first day?” Stacey asks as soon as I answer the phone. I pour my first glass of wine for the evening while I wait for my dinner to finish heating in the microwave. I know the freezer meals I’m addicted to are filled with crap that will probably kill me someday, but after spending up to twelve hours a day with my clients, the last thing I want to do is come home and cook. Not to mention the fact that cooking for one is depressing and pointless, like a daily reminder that I’m alone.

“It was good,” I blatantly lie.
It’s a safe response because that has become my standard answer when she calls the night after I start a new assignment. I’m not about to set her off on a tirade by telling her who hired me this time. She was never Xavier’s number one fan, and after the night he left me because I went to an adult party after telling him I was staying home to work on my thesis, he became public enemy number one in her eyes.

I understand where she’s coming from because she was the friend left to pick up the pieces. She drove to the house when I called her, helped me load the few things I couldn’t live without into the back of her Rav4 and moved me back into the apartment we shared from the beginning of
our sophomore year until Xavier bought the house, saying it was the beginning of the rest of our lives. She’s also the one who crawled into my bed in the middle of the night for months when I woke up crying because I had another dream about him.

“You sound off tonight,” she observes. I guess I’m not a very good liar. Either that or she knows me well enough to see through my crap. “Mel, I love you, but I seriously wonder if you’re insane for doing what you do. Every case takes a toll on you and you’re going to burn out. So, what is it about this one that’s getting to you?”

The microwave shuts off and I try to juggle my phone, wine glass and the plate that I’m pretty sure is burning off my fingerprints so I can finally kick back and relax. Brody, my Boston Terrier, jumps onto the couch, staring at my food. Realizing I’m not sharing, he curls up next to me and goes to sleep.

“You know I’m not going to quit, Stacey.” I put an obscenely large bite of food in my mouth, buying time before I have to say anything else. Until now, I didn’t think about the fact that I skipped lunch today.
It was easier for me to stay sequestered until it was time to come home rather than risk having to see him again. If I can’t work up the courage to spend time in the kitchen when Xavier is home, I might have to start stuffing snacks in my bag each morning.

“And Alyssa is one of the best clients I’ve had.”
As long as you ignore the fact that she’s married to Xavier.
The fact that I like her as much as I do surprises me. Since the moment I opened my assignment email, I imagined all the reasons I wouldn’t enjoy working with Alyssa. After all, who wants
to meet the woman who has pledged her life to the man you thought, at one point, you would marry and have a family with? Even when I walked into Alyssa’s room, I viewed her as the enemy, but she has a personality that I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to hate. “She’s snarky like we are, requires almost nothing from me and seems to have come to terms with what’s happening to her.”

“But?” Stacey presses. I should have known better than to answer the phone. I tip back my glass, wishing I had filled it
to the top. Or figured out a way to carry the bottle into the living room with me.

“But nothing! Look, I have to get going. Alyssa’s husband has to leave early tomorrow morning and asked me if I would mind starting at six.” If I didn’t know better, I would think he asked me to come so early as some sadistic punishment. Xavier knows I don’t do mornings.

“I hope they’re paying you extra for that,” Stacey laughs, knowing how torturous it’s going to be for me to roll out of bed so early. “Anyway, I guess give me a call tomorrow night.”

She hangs up, leaving me to my freezer burned chicken
alfredo and cheap red wine. After I’m done eating, I decide to be a responsible adult and go to bed. The alternative is drinking myself into a stupor, trying to forget the past, and that will only make my five o’clock alarm even more difficult to face. I turn off the television and lights, heading to bed before midnight for the first time since I can remember.

“Daddy, is Miss Melanie coming again tomorrow morning?” Jacob asks as I get him ready for his bath.
I look down at my little man, pulling him tight against my chest. All afternoon, he kept asking when Melanie was going to be done taking care of Alyssa so she could spend time with him. I tried explaining to him that Melanie is not there for us, that she’s taking care of his mother, but his four year old mind wasn’t having any part of that.

“Yes, Jacob. Miss Melanie is going to be here almost every day for a while,” I respond as I test the water temperature.
Knowing my luck, I’ll give Jacob second degree burns and have CPS called in. Until very recently, I haven’t been what you would call a hands-on father, but now I don’t see that I have much of a choice. Alyssa offered to give Jacob his bath, but I don’t want her overdoing it. She needs to put every ounce of energy she has into fighting the leukemia. It’ll take a miracle at this point, but I’m not ready to face the likelihood that there will be no divine intervention for her.

“She’s really pretty,” Jacob giggles as he climbs into the water.
He starts sinking his toy boats in the water, squealing in delight as they resurface on their own.

“Yes, Jacob. Miss Melanie is very pretty,” I respond. There’s no sense in disputing him because he’s telling the truth. If it’s possible, she’s more beautiful now than she was
when she was younger. I spent as little time as possible in Alyssa’s room while Melanie was here because I didn’t want to see the way her mocha eyes shimmer when she laughs or notice how graceful her neck looked when she pulled her dark hair into a messy pile on top of her head.

If it was any other woman on the planet, I would have no problem noticing those things, even in Alyssa’s presence. One of the traits I love the most about
my wife is that she doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body when it comes to such things. She and I used to walk around the city, pointing out attractive people to one another. Male or female didn’t matter, we both appreciate the beauty of the human form. With Melanie, the guilt of not telling Alyssa about the past won’t allow me to look more than necessary because Alyssa spent too much time already living in Melanie’s shadow.

“When are you going to realize I’m not the same as the bitch that hurt you?” Alyssa screams, slamming her car door before stomping into the house. This isn’t a new fight for us and it’s getting to be more frequent as she gets closer to her due date. “Just because she walked out on you doesn’t mean I’m going to!”

I follow her inside, dropping today’s purchases inside the door. If we hadn’t gone to the mall, maybe Alyssa wouldn’t have stepped into the jewelry store. She’s done this a few times now, pointing out diamond rings and wedding bands that she likes, asking my opinion on them. I’m not stupid, I know she’s hoping I will marry her before the baby is born, but I can’t do that. When I marry, it will be for love and I don’t love Alyssa.

“Stop being a bitch,” I yell, pouring myself three fingers of whiskey, tossing it back quick enough that it burns on the way down. I refill my glass and head toward my office.

“A bitch?” Alyssa screams, throwing a bottle of shampoo at me. I reach for the bottle as it flies through the air, batting it enough to slow it down so we don’t have shampoo splattered across the hardwood floors. “You think it’s easy for me, knowing that I’m good enough for you to fuck but not good enough for you to marry? And now, I’m fucking stuck with you for the rest of my goddamned life because of a faulty condom! So yeah, maybe I am being a bitch, but only because I want my child to grow up in a home with a mother and father who are married!”

“Good for you, but I would rather my child have two parents who are sane and able to tolerate one another than be raised around this,” I scream, waving my hand in the space between us. It was a mistake for me to offer Alyssa the guest bedroom. I felt responsible when she told me she’s pregnant and asked her to live with me.

“Daddy, I’m done,” Jacob whines, tugging on my t-shirt with his wet hands. Looking down at him, I’m overcome with emotion, thinking about what a blessing he is. I never wanted kids, but now I can’t imagine what my life would be like without him. Wrapping him tightly in his dinosaur towel, I toss Jacob over my shoulder as we walk down the hall. “Can we go snuggle with Mommy for a little while tonight?” he asks as I zip his flannel pajamas. Tears threaten to fill my eyes, knowing how fleeting these moments will be in the near future.

I promised myself I wouldn’t think about what happens after she’s gone. I can tell myself all day and night that she’s going to beat the cancer this time, but I’m not a stupid man. The doctors diagnosed her as terminal two weeks ago, which means it’s just a matter of time now. I scoop my son off his bed, holding him tightly, as I carry him across the hall for story time with his mother. For now, I need to focus on helping him create a lifetime of memories
.

“Hey, Buddy! Were you a good boy for Daddy?” Alyssa asks, holding out her arms to hold Jacob. Seeing how her face lights up every time he’s close to her feels like a knife in my chest. She has been an amazing mother since the moment he was born. It’s not fair to either of them that
the bond they share will be severed. And Jacob is so young, I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before the memories of her begin to fade.

“Yeah, but Daddy didn’t wash my hair tonight,” Jacob says, smiling. Alyssa looks at me, shaking her head. What can I say, he hates getting his head wet and I didn’t feel like fighting with him. I have no doubt that Alyssa would have been pulling herself out of bed at the first sound of commotion, coming in to save the day. “Will you read me a story?”

Alyssa reaches for the short stack of books beside the bed, telling Jacob to pick two. As she pulls the covers over both of them, I’m torn between pulling a chair beside the bed, turning this into family time or leaving them to have some mother-son time. I opt for the latter, knowing I will have plenty of bedtimes with Jacob in the future. When I turn to look at them before closing the door, Alyssa blows me a kiss and I have to quickly leave before I fall apart.

I walk into the living room, my hand wrapped tightly around the box in my front pocket. I told Melanie to meet me in here and I’m pleased to see that she has obeyed. Flames from the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the walls. In the center of th
e room, the epicenter of my life kneels, completely naked, waiting for me.