Tainted Love: contemporary womens fiction love story and family saga (Behind Closed Doors Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Tainted Love: contemporary womens fiction love story and family saga (Behind Closed Doors Book 1)
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I’d been to the house he owned near the hospital a dozen times in our short romance, but when he asked me to visit this time, I knew exactly what it meant, and the thought made me dizzy with excitement. I think Mom and Dad knew pending nuptials wasn’t the only change in me, but they were thrilled we weren’t just fooling around when Cal turned up the next day bearing an engagement ring and started talking dates and venues.

When I look back now, I think maybe this was a smoke screen, and I gave him what he was really looking for that night on the beach. When he didn't get it through sympathy, he got it another way, because when he kissed me... when his hands wandered to places which had previously felt wonderful yet wrong... and when my proper upbringing would make the atmosphere awkward between us… I didn't say ‘no’ like I had before.

I pushed the good girl aside. I told her Cal was my fiancé. Didn't he have the same right to explore my body as I had his? But still, I think Cal would have called off the engagement if the pending arrival of Georgia hadn't spoilt his plans so soon.

So we were married in early June, in a little chapel, just a week after I'd found out I was pregnant. With Nan and Pap in heaven we have no family besides Mom and Dad, except Uncle Robert and Aunt Gina, and they're not really family. Cal's family couldn't make it on such short notice so it was just a handful of friends, business associates and colleagues and it was all kept very low-key.

Cal and I kept telling everyone his first wedding was a spectacular affair, it seemed a little disrespectful to his late wife to do it all again. I didn't even wear a wedding gown. I wore a full length ivory silk dress I saw in a department store. I’m so short it gathered on the floor and Mom had to lift the hem. The most extravagant thing about the wedding was the white rose I wore in my hair.

Cal’s house was a charming little place and within walking distance of the hospital. Sure, it was nothing like the five bedroom corner plot Mum and Dad owned and the front door opened from the street into our living room, but it was cozy with plenty of room for just the two of us – and baby made three.

One door led into the kitchen and then another into the yard. The stairs went up to a square no bigger than a laundry basket and led to three doors. The master bedroom, the small bathroom, and then my favorite room in the entire house, the little room already painted with blue skies, fluffy white clouds and teddy bears having a picnic. When Mom asked Cal who painted the room, his reply was brief but painful. His wife, Emma.

Oh it stung a little! As you know, I don't have an artistic bone in my body! But what could I say? We never intended to marry this early in our relationship. This was a big adjustment for him. I had to give him the time he needed to lay those ghosts to rest. When he did, Emma’s perfume would disappear from his nightstand and their wedding rings would no longer provoke me from the shelf in our bedroom. These little things would be stored away with his wife’s other belongings; things which obviously meant a great deal to him. I've never told anyone this, but her presence in that house caused me a great deal of angst. No matter how much I tried, it never felt like home.

 

#

The first few months were wonderful. We still walked along the beach holding hands. We'd go out for dinner and a movie or some nights we'd just cuddle on the sofa and watch television. He couldn't seem to get enough of me and we did have amazing chemistry. Without Emma watching, it probably would have been even better. I suppose it's what they call the “honeymoon phase”.

But I sensed the coming changes the more my belly began to swell so I wasn't surprised when Cal started to behave a little strangely. At first it was small things; a look which was a little off, a catch in his tone of voice, a sweeping touch feeling more like a flinch. His mood only grew worse. He'd shout, lose his cool, and then storm off muttering the most awful things under his breath. You know, I'm not sure to this day if he didn’t know I could hear him and I still can’t repeat the things he said, but they... well, they brought tears to my eyes.

He started going to work earlier and coming home later, much later. So late I'd be in bed and his dinner on the stove. He wouldn't eat it. He had played quarterback for the college football team and had maintained his physique, but he began to lose weight. I knew he wasn't sleeping well. He didn't come to bed. So he worked all day and he watched television all night and when it came to me... well, sometimes it felt like I didn't exist.

The day he came home from the practice early was when it all changed. I'd been asking him for weeks to change the light bulb in the nursery. The nights were drawing in and we didn't have long before the baby came... oh, that's right, it was December first, and he was coming home early so we could buy a Christmas tree. I absolutely adored Christmas!

So I eventually got fed up waiting for this light bulb to be changed, and at seven months pregnant had carried a dining chair up the stairs and into the tiny room. I stood on the chair fiddling with the light fittings when…

“What the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He frightened the living daylights out of me! I practically leapt out of my skin. The chair wobbled. The light bulb dropped to the ground and shattered. “Cal! What did you do that for?”

“You stupid fucking bitch! Are you trying to electrocute yourself?”

Well, that was a little melodramatic for changing a light bulb. “No, of course I wasn't.”

“You crazy whore, take a look around you!” His arm swung around the room as he counted out the pieces of furniture. “What if you'd fell? You're alone. Who would take you to the emergency room?”

“Don't be ridiculous. I was perfectly stable until you scared the life out of me.”

“For God’s sake, Faith, I've had this happen to me once already!”

“Oh, Cal.” How could I have been so insensitive? His wife died by falling while she was pregnant. Suddenly everything made sense. Do you remember me telling you men weren't touchy-feely back then? Well, Cal was obviously paranoid, and my safety had him living on edge, even if I wasn't.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.” I made to move off the chair.

“Fay, don't —”

Too late. Thin shards of glass ripped through the ball of my right foot as I stepped down so we ended up in the emergency room after all.

You know, he felt so guilty. If he hadn't scared me, I wouldn't have dropped the light bulb. He brought me flowers, and chocolates, and wouldn't stop saying he was sorry. Even after the cuts had healed, he continued to lavish me with his attention, his love and care. Particularly long baths and foot massages towards the end of the pregnancy.

He wouldn't accept that I understood why he was so angry. He said it was no excuse. Instead, I made a conscious effort not to do stupid things where accidents might happen. In retrospect, I guess, the spite, the vindictiveness and the hurt, well, they were sweet really... and once Georgia came, the grizzly bear in him calmed down... a lot!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

I was in an awful mood on Valentine's Day. I hadn’t slept well for days. The baby was overdue and we’d rushed to the hospital twice thinking I was in labor only to be told it was those false labor pains. I wanted it to be a good day and I was really trying to keep my spirits up but the Braxton-Hicks were driving me mad and I had the worst backache ever. I’d tried everything on in my closet that was either pretty or girlie, and nothing fit me anymore, so I couldn’t even look nice for my husband on Valentine’s Day. And even though I fixed my hair in Cal’s favorite style and had put on a little makeup — you know, made a bit of an effort — he didn’t even notice!

There were no flowers or a card as he walked through the door. He didn’t see there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. He slung his jacket over the sofa, kicked his shoes off into the middle of the floor and left his briefcase on the dining room table when it was all set with candles and cutlery. I even went to the trouble of getting the best china from the very top of the kitchen cupboard, where he’d stored it for some unknown reason. I was not in the mood for his rough day too.

I picked up his things and went to put them away. On my way into the kitchen, the pain got hold of me again. I stopped and held on to the work surface. I was sure this was just another Braxton-Hicks, and it would pass in a few seconds, but this time, it didn’t. The pain was much sharper than it had been before.

At that moment, Cal walked in. He took one look at me and hissed, “Pull yourself together, Fay.” I glared at his back as he opened the fridge. “You know, Emma was never like this.”

He hadn’t! He had NOT just compared me to his dead wife. How could he? Everything — the clothes, feeling unwanted and unloved on Valentine’s Day, the fake labor pains, the just not wanting to be pregnant anymore — came out in three very angry, very loud words.


I’m not Emma!

I don’t think I ever raised my voice at Cal like that before. He looked stunned for a moment. Then his eyes darkened and his lips made a thin line, and he said, “No. No, you’re not. Emma would never have me racing to the hospital at four o clock in the morning with phantom labor pains!” I gasped at the venom in his voice. “One time, Faith? Fair enough. But two? Both times? I've never been so embarrassed in my life.” He walked out.

I fumed as the front door slammed. How dare he speak to me like that? I called Mom. I wanted Dad to come for me. He wasn’t the only one who could walk out, you know.

I ranted at our mother, telling her how awful he had been. What had I done to make him hate me this much? I hadn’t become pregnant on my own! Was it too hard to ask for him to talk baby names? He’d had months to get used to the idea. All I’d wanted was one special night. Had he realized it could be our last? Why didn’t he see how hard this was for me? I never saw any of my friends anymore because we lived so far away from where I’d grown up.

It really wasn’t that far, but I felt like I didn’t see anyone anymore because I’d given up my job. He was all I had, and when he told me I was not as good as … oh … oh no… that did not feel good.

Of course Dad denies it, but he must have broken the speed limit, because when Georgia decided she was coming out, she was not going to wait. There wasn’t time for any pain relief, and by the time Dad found him, Cal barely made it to the hospital before they were telling me to push.

Now, let me tell you, little brother, just be grateful you’re a man! There is nothing more painful than pushing a six pound baby through that hole without pain relief. So now you’re asking me why I did it again, and so many times. Well, you see, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen… this man, with whom I’d fallen in love…

The midwife handed Cal his daughter, and his smile... well, it was at least a mile wide. His eyes were as big as flying saucers and shining with magical wonder. He couldn’t believe she was there. He peppered the nurses with questions. He really couldn’t believe she was fine. Yes, Calvin, ten fingers, ten toes, and a cap of dark hair. He really did care! I felt all warm, fuzzy, and only the tiniest bit angry with him.

“I think she looks like a Georgia,” he said, and then he looked down at her and his voice… oh my! The emotion… the pride… the joy… the love and… if he knew I was telling you this he’d kill me… the tears in his eyes as he spoke to her for the first time. “Hi baby girl, I’m your dada.”

Oh, my God! I’d have done it a thousand times to see that moment over... and over... and over... I think I’d have fallen in love with him every time... and all was definitely forgiven.

 

#

You know, she has the biggest brown eyes; they're a shade darker than her dad's. And she never really lost the dark hair. I guess she got it from him too. But she was a teeny, tiny baby, and the most precious person in this world to me! I worried sometimes how small she was. I mean, she grew awfully fast but the doctors said she was below average for a baby her age. Mom told me not to worry, that I was a small baby too, and I guess I have been small all my life. But you know, I’m her mom and it’s my job to worry.

We had a routine at home fairly quick. Georgia and I would get up before Cal and have breakfast ready for him. Then we’d tidy up a little after he’d left for work. After lunch we’d do the laundry, and then we’d leave to pick you up from kindergarten. We’d visit with Mom for a little bit before I’d bathe Georgia and get her ready for bed. When Cal came home from work, he’d sit with her while I cooked dinner, and then I’d put her to bed. I slept so lightly there was no point for Cal to get up with her at night. Oh he tried, and he tried to clean up, and he tried to do the laundry, and he tried to wash the dishes, but I had it covered.

Well, I
thought
I had it covered.

One night, I’d put Georgia in her crib and decided to take a hot bath. I swear I only closed my eyes for a second. The water was so warm, so relaxing. I felt like I hadn’t wound down in years. The next thing I knew, Cal was standing beside me. He had a red-faced Georgia in his arms and tears streaked down her cheeks. I hadn’t heard her crying but that wasn’t why he wasn’t happy with me.

He just looked at Georgia and tapped her nose and walked away saying in a cutesy little voice “Mommy nearly killed herself in the bath. Yes, she did. She did.” The water sloshed everywhere as I sat up and heard, “Maybe Mommy will let Daddy help out every now and again. And then maybe next time Mommy has a bath, Daddy won’t have to worry if his baby girl might grow up without her Mommy.”

I couldn’t have felt guiltier if he’d yelled at me for hours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

June 1979

 

Once Cal was sure I handled being a mom, he and I discussed my return to nursing. He wanted to move away from the area we lived. It wasn't safe; the schools nearest to us were not as good the schools you and Uncle Robert’s daughter, Izzy were going to and we were too far away from my parents though it really wasn’t that far. Do you remember getting the bus with me from school every day?

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