The Long Way Home (4 page)

“I love you.”

He nodded, “If you need me, call.”

I got in the car and drove to Muriel’s to check on her.

Her maid answered with a wary look. It was late in the
evening and she had, no doubt, been caring for Muriel for hours.

“Hi, is she in?”

She nodded, “She‘s upstairs. She isn’t well.”

I sighed, “I know. I’m the one who paid the server to bring
her home a few hours ago.” I walked past her and up the grand staircase. I
knocked on the huge door, “Muriel. It’s Jacqueline.”

She didn’t respond. I opened the door to the room, squinting
in the dim light to find her. The room was massive, but I saw her instantly.
She was curled in a ball in the corner of the room, tucked in by the large
windows with thick curtains drawn.

I closed the door and walked over quietly, “Muriel are you
okay?”

She didn’t move.

I dropped to my knees next to her, taking her hand in mine.

She sniffled, “I always suspected something was going on. I
never imagined anyone else did though. I thought he was careful and that was
why I couldn’t prove it. I didn’t know everyone knew. I didn’t know my children
knew.”

My heart hurt for her. I squeezed her hand.

She continued, “My daughter came to me two weeks ago and told
me her best friend’s husband was cheating on her. She looked me in the eyes and
said, don’t worry Mom, I told her to keep her chin up and act like she didn’t
know. That’s what you did and everyone still respected you.” she sobbed.

I bent forward, wrapping around her.

“That is the example I gave my child. I taught her to turn a
blind eye to the fact people cheat and that the appearance of happiness was
what was important. I never taught her that her self-worth was larger than a
man.” She looked up at
me,
“I had none, so why would
she think she deserved any?”

Tears streamed down my cheeks, “Muriel, you are worth a
million of him. She sees the loving person you are.”

She shook her head, “I kicked him out. I need my children to
see that no one deserves that kind of life and disrespect. I just wish I had
chosen love. Back then, you just didn't choose love like that. It was frowned
upon. And now I see it all, but I am too late. My kids will never understand
real love because no one has showed it to them.”

I nodded, “Of course they see it. I’m sure they do. I do.”

She shook her head, “I am tired of this world. I am tired of
being the Muriel everyone expects me to be. I am tired, Jacqueline. Do you know
that feeling?”

I nodded, “I do.”

She looked down, “If I died today there is no one who would
care, not truly. There is no one whose heart would be smashed and broken into a
thousand pieces. I have no love, Jacqueline. No one loves me. Do people even
matter if no one loves them? I feel like a tree falling in the forest and no
one is around to hear it.”

I hugged her tight, “I am here. I would be devastated. This
will
pass
,
trust me
. He is a
shit and not worth the pain you are feeling.”

She laughed, “It isn’t just him. He was the icing on the
cake. It is everything. Every minute of my life has been a lie.”

She hugged me back and sobbed into me. I held her until she
fell asleep. I left the room with her unconscious on the plush carpet and found
the maid in the kitchen, “You can't leave her alone. I’m scared she might hurt
herself.”

She nodded, “I know, me too. She is distraught. Has been for
days.”

“I have to go home, but if you need me to come back here, I’m
in her cell phone under Jacqueline Croix and Phil Bernard."

She nodded, “I know Ms. Croix.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a good night.”

I winced, “You too. I hope she’s okay.” I left with a sick
feeling in my stomach and a hole in my heart.

The car door slipped from my fingers, slamming. I winced and
looked up at the huge brick house, hoping Phil didn’t hear it. He hated it when
I slammed the door.

A smile slipped across my lips, thinking about the way his
dark eyebrows would knit together and he would keep talking, even though the
slam annoyed him. He refused to allow anything to stop him from talking. The
disapproving look was funny, most of the time. But not when he gave it to
strangers. Then it was
him
being uppity. It was
unattractive on him.

My eyes scanned the windows as I slipped the bags from the
trunk. I needed to start bringing those green recycling bags in the trunk to make
it look like I was bringing in groceries from the markets that didn’t deliver.
Not that I ever went to them. I hoped he missed the large white letters saying
CHANEL on the black bag, as I hurried across the courtyard and up the stairs.
He deserved whatever therapy shopping I did.

We had spent the entire night avoiding each other. He was
adamant I was imagining things between him and Eleanor, and I was positive he
had already done something to destroy the love I had worked hard to try to have
for him. It wasn’t a strong love it was forced. Forced love couldn’t be saved
if the marriage was tested. We would become roommates like our parents. I could
sense us already on that road and our wedding was two weeks away. I had done my
duties with the caterers and florists. The wedding planner had everything under
control. My bridal shower was over with and the bachelor and bachelorette
parties were completely planned. I deserved some real shopping. Shopping where
I got something I desperately wanted. When I touched the dress, I
knew—she was special. I called her CHANEL and adored every thread and
seam.

I opened the front door and paused.

Nothing.

He must have spent his entire day in his office again. I rolled
my eyes and crept up the stairs. Half the fun of buying too much was getting it
into the closet, where I could state with a bold face, “I bought that ages
ago.”

His version of ages and mine differed, a lot.

The third-to-last stair made its usual creak. I’d forgotten
to step to the side again. I stayed frozen and a little bit scared. This was my
excitement for the day.

He didn’t call out. Whew, I’d made it. That deserved an extra
glass of pinot later. I turned the handle and slipped into the bedroom.

The rest was choppy, not a fluid memory but flashes of bad
things.

Long slim fingers grabbing the headboard.

The pounding of his hips into her rounded
ass.

A cape. What the fuck, a cape? Was he in costume?

His hand was woven into her long, blonde hair, yanking it
back a bit as he grunted and rutted. Yes, rutted. It was the only word I could
use for what he was doing to the poor girl. He rutted in a cape. Why a cape?

He was not the only one in costume though. She had some kind
of garter and bustier situation going on. It was like walking into someone
else's house. Only it wasn't. It was mine. The blue pill stopped me from really
feeling it. I knew I was upset, but I couldn't find it in my sinking chest.

Of course, she seemed to be enjoying it. In the mirror above
the bed, I could see she was making those ridiculous lips…duck lips… and looked
back at him like a porn star would. Who actually made that face whilst someone
rutted with them? Who actually wore that amount of makeup early evening?

CHANEL almost slipped from my fingers but I gripped her.
I would need her later
,
I knew that
.

Long red nails, face like a porn star, lets a man take her
from behind and pull her hair without buying her diamonds… she was a pro. Oh
God, she was on my sheets… in my goddamned shoes. Oh God. MY JIMMY CHOOS!

I backed up, out of the
room,
amazed
she hadn’t seen me when she was looking back at him. Her duck lips never even
stopped as she faked her orgasm.

She gave a moan, “Fuck me, Mr. Bernard!” and instantly I
recognized her. Gripping CHANEL like she was my lifeline, I lifted my fingers
to my lips as I stepped back farther into the hallway where I became frozen.

“Oh God.” She pushed back into him.

I had one thing in the whole world I feared. It was
quicksand.
Quicksand and whores wearing my fucking Jimmy
Choos
.

Luckily, I lived in the rich part of New Jersey, where I
would never come in contact with such a substance. However, there I was frozen;
my feet wouldn’t budge. They made me watch the whole thing. They refused to
walk away until it was over. He collapsed on our much-younger neighbor.
Somewhere in that frozen moment, his eyes lazily looked back to see me. He
didn't seem to comprehend what he was seeing. His face made the quicksand
disappear and I turned and fled from the house. I ran across the courtyard and
threw the bags into the backseat, slamming the car door so
hard,
I was scared I’d damaged the damned thing.

“JACQUELINE! STOP! JACQUELINE!”

I didn't turn back to see his naked body out the open window.
I had a pretty good idea how it looked.

Why couldn’t it have been Eleanor? She was my age at least.

I backed up like I was driving to a fire. The tires skidded
the entire way back and forward… until I was nearly to the end of our huge
driveway.

My hands shook as I left Short Hills. I didn’t think a single
thought until I turned onto the Garden State Parkway. I merged and let my
frozen mind start to work.

Was she even eighteen? Was she a minor? Was he a pedophile?
Oh God. I racked my brain to recall if we’d been invited to her eighteenth
birthday or nineteenth.

I pressed the Bluetooth button and spoke softly, “Brandi.”

The phone rang.

My sister answered right away, “Hey you, I just called your
house a couple hours ago and Phil said you were with the wedding planner.”

My heart was beating a mile a minute, “Right, yes. I was. Did
you happen to recall what birthday it was we went to for Ashley Andrews? Like
how old she was?”

She was silent for a moment, “The neighbor girl whose party
you dragged me to? Her mother had that annoying laugh?”

I swallowed all the bad things I wanted to tell her and
nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you alright? You sound funny.”

I could see the look in my eyes when I glanced in the
rearview. It was a funny look to go with a funny sound. “I’m just picking out a
gift card; I forgot to give her one.”

“Oh,
uhm
yeah… she was nineteen
because she said she was going to Canada with friends to party legally. Quebec,
I think.”

At least she wasn’t a minor. Not that it made a difference.
She was a child compared to us. I was twenty-eight and he was thirty.

I sighed, “Well, I should go. I’m at the cashier counter and
I hate it when people talk on the phone and ignore the cashier. It's
uncivilized.”

I could hear the tension and disbelief in her silence, “You
sure you’re alright? You sound like you’re in the car.” Being my older sister,
she was like France. She could read me like a book.

“Yes, it’s the air conditioning unit I’m next to.” I shook my
head,
“Anyway, I’ll call you later when I get home.” I
hung up and took deep breaths. “Air conditioning unit? What store has an air
conditioning unit?” I sighed and felt my lower lip start to protrude,
“Nineteen? Nineteen?” She was a kid and he was a pervert and I didn’t even
know.

A flash of something hit my memory. I pressed the Bluetooth
button again, “Home.”

The phone rang only once.

“Jacqueline, I can explain?”

I cut his pathetic attempt at lying off, “Phil, can you check
the closet and see if I have red satin Jimmy
Choos
?
I’m heading back to the shops and I was thinking about getting some for the
bachelorette party, but you know how I am. I may already have them.”

“What?” He had that after sex voice. I almost screamed at him
but I stopped myself. I wanted him to misunderstand everything that was
happening. I wanted him to panic and not know what I was going to do.

“Shopping, now? Can we just talk about this, please? I know
you’re probably very angry but…”

“The shoe closet—can you have a peek

 
and
see if I own red satin Jimmy
Choos
?”

“Y-yes. You do.”

Fucker. He should have told me no. He should have lied and
said I didn’t have them. He was fucking a girl in my shoes and was planning on
putting them back in the closet? After she’d worn them and him at the same
time? Even after he was caught red-handed and caped.

I was breathing so heavily, I was certain I was going to have
a heart attack. “Excellent. Thank you.”

He sounded annoyed, “Are you coming home? I need to explain.
I have a sickness; I never wanted you to see that side of me.”