The House (26 page)

“You sure as hell did,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he sat up. The girl lay flat on the bed after turning on the light, not sure what to do. She knew Phil wasn't married. And he hadn't said he had a girlfriend. The woman standing at the foot of the bed in her underwear looked a mess. “What do you think this is?” He didn't know what else to say, and the nubile blonde said nothing, staring at the ceiling, waiting for it all to go away.

“It looks like cheating to me,” Sarah said, staring him right in the eye. “I guess that's what all the weekends-only bullshit was about all along. What a fucking crock of shit,” she said, not sure herself if she was referring to his dating policy with her, or to him. She pulled on her T-shirt with shaking hands, and managed to get it on inside out. She wanted to run out the door but didn't want to walk back into the street in her bra and underpants. Then she climbed back into the overalls and only bothered to hook one side. They were drooping badly.

“Look, go home. I'll call you. This isn't what it looks like.” He glanced from Sarah to the blonde and back. But he couldn't get out of bed, for obvious reasons. He was naked, and probably still had a hard-on.

“Are you joking?” Sarah asked, shaking from head to foot. “This
isn't
what it looks like? How dumb do you think I am? Was she in Aspen with you? Have you been pulling this shit for four years?”

“No…I… look… Sarah…”

The girl sat up in bed then and looked at Phil with a blank expression. “Do you want me to go?”

Sarah answered for him. “Don't bother.” And with that, she hurried down the hall, slammed out the front door, threw his keys on the floor as she left, and ran down the stairs, out of the building, and back to her car. She was shaking so hard she could hardly drive. She had wasted four years of her life. But at least she knew now. No more manipulation and lies. No more disappointment. No more agonizing self-examinations about why she put up with his bullshit. It was finally over. She told herself she was glad, but tears were pouring down her cheeks as she walked into her apartment. It had been a hell of a shock. The phone was ringing as she unlocked the door. She didn't answer. There was nothing left to say. She heard him leave a message on her answering machine. She knew the voice. The voice of conciliation. She walked over to her machine and erased it without listening to him. She didn't want to hear it.

She lay in bed awake for hours that night, replaying the ugly scene in her head, that fucking unbelievable moment when he had sat up in bed and she realized there was a woman with him. It was like watching the collapse of a building imploding on itself, or a bomb going off. Their very own twin towers. The whole fantasy world she had shared with him for four years, however inadequate it was, had come falling down around them. And there was no putting it back together. She didn't want to. And even in her shaken state, she knew it was a mercy. She probably would have accepted weekends-only for many more years.

The phone continued to ring all night, and finally she unplugged it, and turned off her cell phone. It was gratifying to know he cared that much. He just didn't want to look bad. Or maybe the weekends had been comfortable after all, and he didn't want to lose her. She no longer cared. Cheating was one thing she wasn't going to put up with. She had put up with far too much already. But this was finally, and irreversibly, the last straw.

She tried to tell herself in the morning that she felt better. In truth, she knew she didn't. But she felt certain she would eventually. He had finally given her no choice whatsoever. She dressed for work, and got to her office on time. Her mother called her ten minutes after nine and sounded worried.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, Mom.” The woman had goddam radar.

“I tried to call you last night. The phone company said your phone was out of order.”

“I was working on a brief, so I unplugged it. Honestly, I'm fine.”

“Good. I was just checking. I have a dentist appointment. I'll call you later.”

After she hung up, Sarah called Phil's apartment, knowing he would have left for work by then, and left a message. She asked him to messenger her keys back. “Don't drop them off, don't bring them. Don't mail them. Messenger them. Thank you.” It was all she said. He called her six times that day at her office. She didn't take the calls, and then finally, on the seventh call, she did. She told herself she didn't need to hide from him. She had done nothing wrong. He had.

All she said was hello when her secretary put the call through. He sounded panicked, which surprised her. He was such a cocky son of a bitch, she figured he'd try to bullshit his way through it, but he didn't. “Look, Sarah…I'm sorry… it's the first time in four years… these things happen…I don't know… maybe it was the last gasp of my freedom…we need to talk… maybe we should see each other a couple of times during the week… maybe you're right… I'll come over tonight and we'll talk about it.… Babe, I'm sorry… you know I love you….” She finally cut in.

“Do you?” she said coldly. “Funny way to show it. Love by proxy. I suppose she was standing in for me.”

“Come on, babe… please…I'm human…so are you… it could happen to you one day… I'd forgive you….”

“No, it couldn't happen to me, actually. Because I'm incredibly stupid. I believed the garbage you told me. I let you leave me at home for weekends and holidays with your kids. I've spent every goddamned Christmas and New Year's alone for four years, while you tell me how busy you are during the week and that you're going to the gym, when you're really fucking someone else. The difference between us, Phil, is that I'm honest, I have integrity. You don't. That's what it boils down to. It's over. I'm not going to see you again. Send me back my keys.”

“Don't be stupid, Sarah.” He started to sound testy. It didn't take him long to get there. “We have four years invested in this.”

“You should have thought of that last night before you got into bed with her, not after,” Sarah said coldly. She was shaking again, and she had feelings for him, but there was no turning back. She didn't want to. Now, finally, at long long last, she wanted out.

“Is it
my
goddamned fault that you barged into my apartment and walked in on me? You should have called.”

“
You
shouldn't have been fucking another woman, whether I ‘barged’ in or not. I'm glad I did. I should have done it a lot sooner. I could have saved myself a lot of grief and four wasted years. Good-bye, Phil.”

“You'll regret this,” he warned her. “You're thirty-eight years old, and you'll wind up alone. For chrissake, Sarah, don't be stupid.” He was almost threatening her, but she wouldn't have taken him back now if he was the last man on the planet.

“I was alone when I was with you, Phil,” Sarah said quietly. “Now I'll only be by myself. Thanks for everything,” she said, and without hearing what he had to say in answer, she hung up. He didn't call her back. He tried a few more times that night, after she plugged her phone in again, and this time she had unplugged her message machine, she didn't want to hear his voice ever again. It really was over. She shed a few tears over him that night, and tried to get the awful scene of the night before out of her head. Her keys came back to her by messenger the next morning. He sent them to the apartment. It was Saturday morning. He had included a note saying that he was there for her, anytime she wanted to call him, and he hoped she would. She threw the note away after glancing at it, and packed up the things he had left there. There weren't many, toiletries, some jeans, underwear, shirts, a pair of Nikes, flip-flops, and loafers. A leather jacket he left there for weekends. She realized as she packed his things that he had been more fantasy in her life than real. He was the embodiment of hope, and the culmination of her own neurosis, her terror of being alone, and abandoned by a man, as she had been by her father. So she put up with the crumbs he gave her, and never demanded more. She asked for it, but was willing to tolerate it when he gave her less than she deserved. And on top of it, he was cheating on her. He had done her a huge favor the night he went to bed with the young blonde. She was actually surprised to discover that she didn't feel as bad as she had feared she would after the breakup. By late that afternoon, she was at the house, hammering away on the bookcase. She thought the hammering would do her good, and it did. She didn't even hear the doorbell ring at first, and when she did finally, she was afraid that it was Phil. She peered downstairs cautiously, from a second-floor window, and saw that it was Jeff. She ran down the grand staircase to the front door to let him in.

“Hi,” he said easily. “I saw your car in the driveway and thought I'd stop in for a minute.” He noticed that she looked distracted and observed her more closely. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she reassured him, but didn't look it. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He could see it in her eyes.

“Tough week at the office?”

“Yeah. More or less.” He followed her back upstairs and checked her work on the bookcase. It was surprisingly good for an amateur. She was diligent in her work. Her eyes met his then, and he smiled at her.

“What's up, Sarah? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but something's wrong.” She nodded, but didn't cry.

“I broke up with Phil two days ago. Long overdue.” She set down the hammer for a minute and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“What happened? Big fight when he got back from Aspen?”

“Not really,” she said quietly. “I walked in on him with another woman. That was a novel experience. Something new and different.” She said it in a monotone, and considering that, Jeff thought she looked pretty good.

“Wow!” he whistled. “That must have been unpleasant.”

“It was. I looked like an idiot. She looked like a whore. And he looked like a total asshole. Maybe he's been doing that all along. I threw his keys on the floor and walked out. I sent back his stuff this morning. He's been calling like crazy.”

“You really think it's over, or do you think you'll take him back?” Marie-Louise had cheated on him years before, and he had relented when she came back and begged him to forgive her. Afterward he was sorry he had. She had done it again. But never after. That time he had put his foot down. They'd been through a lot in fourteen years.

“No, I won't take him back,” Sarah said sadly. She was sadder about the fool she'd been for so long than about losing him. “I'm finished. I should have been a long time ago. He's a jerk. And a liar and a cheat. All those nice things.”

“He won't let you go that easily,” Jeff predicted.

“Maybe not. But I have. I could never forgive him. It was a disgusting scene. I was about to climb into his bed to surprise him, when I discovered someone else already had. I've never felt so stupid in my life, or been so shocked. I thought I'd have a heart attack when I left. Anyway, it's over, and here I am, back at work on the house. Brave new world. I can hardly wait to move in,” she said, changing the subject, and he nodded. He got the drift. He was curious to see if she would stay away from Phil. She sounded very firm about it now. But it had only been two days since the unhappy event. It sounded awful to him, as it had been.

“When do you think you'll be able to move in?”

“I don't know. What do you think?” The electrical work was starting the following week, the plumbing the week after. There would be crews all over the house for months. They weren't starting on the kitchen till February or March, when the other work was done or at least well under way.

“Maybe April,” he said thoughtfully. “It depends how steadily they stay on it. If they stick with it, you may be able to camp out here in March, if you can stand the dust and the noise.”

“I'd love it.” She smiled at him. “I'm dying to get out of my apartment.” She had outgrown it, especially now that Phil was gone. She wanted to move on. Desperately. It was time.

Jeff hung around for a while and kept her company while she worked. He didn't have time to work on the house himself today, he had things to do. But he felt badly leaving her there alone, particularly after what had just happened. Finally, two hours later, he told her he'd try to come back the next day, and left her hammering on the bookcase. She stayed there till nearly midnight, and then went home to her empty apartment. Her message machine was still off, and so was her cell phone. There was no one she wanted to hear from, no reason to take calls. And as she slipped into her unmade bed that night, she thought of Phil and the woman she'd caught him making love to. She wondered if he was with her, or someone else. She wondered, too, how many women he had cheated on her with, over the years, while he told her he couldn't see her during the week, and only on weekends. It was depressing to realize what a fool she'd been. There was nothing she could do about it now, except make sure he stayed gone forever. She never wanted to lay eyes on him again.

Chapter 15

By the end of January
, Sarah was feeling better. She was busy at the office, and working at the house every weekend. Jeff was right. Phil hadn't given up easily. He had called her many times, written to her, sent her roses, and even dropped by unannounced at the house on Scott Street. She had seen him from an upstairs window, and hadn't let him in. She responded to none of his calls or messages, didn't thank him for the roses, and threw away his letters. She had meant what she said. There was nothing to discuss. She was finished. She assumed now that he had probably cheated on her for years. The way he had arranged their lives, he had had every opportunity. And now she knew she couldn't trust him. That was enough for her. She was done. It took him nearly a month to stop calling. And when he did, she knew he had moved on. He had admitted to her once that he had cheated on his wife at the end, but he had blamed it on her, and said that she had driven him to it. Maybe now, Sarah thought, he was blaming it on her.

Stanley's estate was nearly settled. They had already disbursed a considerable amount of the assets to the heirs. She had received her bequest as well, from the liquid portion of his estate. She was doling it out carefully to the contractors Jeff was hiring for her. One of them had put a lien on her house, which he insisted was standard procedure, and she had forced him to remove it. So far the restoration was within her budget, and Jeff was supervising all the subcontractors for her. She was doing a huge amount of work herself, and loving every minute of it. It was incredibly gratifying doing manual work, after all her more cerebral stresses in the office. And she was surprised to find she didn't miss Phil as much as she had feared. Working at the house on weekends helped a lot.