What Brings Me to You (38 page)

              God it was like my life was on repeat. It was her. Lacey fucking Cramer standing next to you looking impeccable in that outfit that I’m sure cost more than my car. Her blonde hair was pulled off her face in a high ponytail exposing her higher cheekbones and viciously beautiful green eyes. Those damn eyes. I couldn’t let on that I remembered her because I was sure as hell that she didn’t remember me.
Be cool Charley, be cool
. Though you rarely, if ever, hear cool people actually say “cool”. I need another word. Be hip. Be hep.

“Charley,” you said not a trace of your laughter on your face. “What are you doing here?” I could’ve died at that moment because not only did you look kind of pissed that I was there but Lacey fucking Cramer actually looked satisfied that you didn’t run to me or kiss me hello. She looked pleased and that just made me want to punch her in her perfect face.

“Hello to you, too,” I said as sweetly as possible and sidled up to you. It took you much longer than I would’ve liked for you to bend down and kiss me and then it was only a peck on the cheek. “I came by to see if you wanted to grab lunch.”

              “Um. Can’t. Gotta work,” you nodded once to LFC and I nodded to her.

              “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” she said. God I hated her. I hated her so much.

              “Mrs. Rosen,” I said. “And you are?”

              “Lacey Holmes. Pleasure.”
Holmes.
Oh my god.

              “You mean
the
Lacey Holmes?” I said trying to flatter her.

              “Charley, please don’t…”

              “No, Jay, it’s fine.”
Jay? Now he has a nickname. Oh no, bitch.
“Yes. Gunther, you may know of him as Teddy, is my husband.” I didn’t just know
of
him. I knew him. Knew being the operative word. It had been quite some time since we’d seen eachother. In that time he’d gone and married Lacey. It was a surprise and it wasn’t. I understood at the time that we were together that she was a reason we couldn’t be together. I understood there was something between them but I also knew she was awful and her mother was worse. At the same, I was disappointed in him for doing it. I wondered when they got together. I wondered if they’d been together since the night he stood me up to be with her.

              “Well isn’t that nice! Jaime and I are about to celebrate our…how long has it been, sweetheart?”

              “Um. A while,” you muttered uncomfortably.

              “Don’t be coy. It’s been years almost three years. How about you and Mr. Holmes?”

              “We’re going on six months or so.”

              “Aw, that’s sweet. You’re still in the honeymoon period, eh?”

              “You could say that.” Her eyes flashed quickly to you. It was not even a second but I saw it, unfortunately you were too tall and it would’ve been conspicuous to try and see your reaction.

              “Charley, I’m sure Lacey has somewhere to be.”

              “Right of course. Well it was good to meet you.” I did not stick out my hand to shake hers. Not that time.

              “Likewise,” she said coolly. “Jay, I’ll see you in my office later?” She asked casually.

              “Course,” you said curtly. Then turned to me, the hard icy look returned to your face and I wished so desperately that it hadn’t. That I could see the real you, the soft, genuine, sweet you one more time. “Thanks for coming by sweetheart, but I’ve got a pretty jammed schedule today and..”

              “No of course, I understand.” I didn’t understand. I was pissed but it wasn’t the time or the place to get upset about it. Besides I was the one who barged in on you while you were working. Something, I realized you’d never do and I kicked myself for being so dumb. Still I was humiliated in front of Lacey Cramer. Again. This time though, the man I was with did not come to my rescue. It seemed that time the man I was with would rather be with her. I forced the thought from my mind and a smile on my face. “Go make money and be big man.”

              “Right. Well um…you know your way out.”

*****

              The night before your business trip to Cocoa you were talking animatedly about what a great opportunity HCI was willing to offer you. It was all Rosen Brand merchandising and a chain of gyms. All sorts of fame/money making things that you were so excited about, and I was so excited for you about. You said it would mean that I wouldn’t have to work, that we could move into a bigger house, I could get a fancy car and wear fancy clothes. I nodded and smiled along, but I didn’t have the heart to tell you then that I didn’t want any of those things. I liked our average suburban home and our average car and our average clothes because extravagance wasn’t what I was after. I saw what extravagance did to good people like my mother. She loved her fancy clothes and her fancy car, but those things never loved her back. It would’ve sounded very cliché for me to say this to you, though and I didn’t want to dampen the mood, so I let you talk while you packed your bag, and I sat on the bed and drank a large glass of wine. Every now and then you’d pause in your monologue to kiss me which we hadn’t done in a long time. I kept thinking how much I was going to miss you, but in all your talking you didn’t say it. When you’d paused to take a kiss break I said faintly as we pulled away, “I’ll miss you.” Your response was unexpected and bizarre to me. You said: “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and I just nodded and drank more wine because I didn’t agree. In my limited experience, absence didn’t really make the heart grow fonder. Absence, distance, time made the heart forget. I didn’t share this because I certainly didn’t think you’d forget me and didn’t want to sound too disappointed that you didn’t say you’d miss me, too.

              We made love that night before you left. It was the first time in a while. I’d like to say it was magical, or special or whatever, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t bad per se, it was just like all the other times. You were the same man in the bedroom that you were everywhere else, but I didn’t know any better because I had nothing to compare it to. I was just so happy that you wanted to be with me that it didn’t matter the sex was just ok. You left shortly afterward. I was still naked, asleep in our oversized bed. You didn’t tell me you were leaving. I don’t even know if you kissed me goodbye. I wish I knew because it was the last time we were together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Teddy

              Almost nothing changed for me after you died, Lace. That’s the saddest truth to the whole thing. I go on living like I had been living. Without you. The only difference is now I don’t worry about being seen in public alone and the endless inquisition that would inevitably follow.
“Where’s Lacey?”
They’d ask. Pretty innocuous question to ask the guy whose supposed to be your husband, even if it was a marriage of convenience. Even if I only did it to be sure that my family was safe. I’d break out in a cold sweat every time. What the hell was I supposed to say? The only answer that I could think of was “I don’t know”, because I didn’t. It doesn’t really look good to say “I don’t know” when someone asks why you’re reading at a Starbucks alone on a Friday night, so you know what I’d say?
“Around.”
You were. Around I mean. You certainly got around. Maybe that’s what I was really saying to people.

              “Where’s Lacey?”

              “Oh? You mean my wife? The woman who supposed to stick by me and support me? The woman who did everything in her power to get me to give up my dream of being a doctor including drugging me and having unprotected sex with me? Oh I made her marry me so she could get what she wanted and now she’s fucking around. Fucking around on me.
”  I know on some level that makes me a shitty person, but you were a pretty shitty person too.

              I applied to MSF. Not like you ever gave a shit about it, but I did it. I’ve been working infectious disease for a year. I figure there’s nothing wrong with applying early. I did get glowing recommendations from my mentors and I already speak French and Spanish. I’ve been learning Arabic, too. I’m hoping I hear something before I have to face Charley again. This town is too small; it’s bound to happen.

              You know what? Fuck you, Lacey! Even after you die you find a way to screw with me! How am I supposed to face her? It was hard enough before. It was hard enough seeing her after I broke her heart and she moved on. But now? Now her mother is begging me to comfort her because she’s hurting because of something you did? You and that dick head! What’s his name? Jesus, fuck you, Lacey! Fuck YOU!

*****

              I actually talked to the
sonofabitch
once. It was that day. The day that I gave up on her. The day I saw her bruised and battered face in the ER. The first time I saw him. I needed to take a break so I went down and across the street to the Starbucks. I pulled my novel out of my pocket to read, though all I could think about was her. It was before I knew you were sleeping with him. I didn’t make that connection until much later. Anyway, I guess it was because of you that he knew of me, or maybe he saw how I looked at her in the hospital, I don’t know. He just sat down across from me and stared.

              “Can I help you?”

              “No man, but I’m going to help you,” the guy was big but honestly, that wasn’t what was intimidating about him. He had those crazy eyes. You probably know what I mean since you spent so much
intimate
time with him. Clearly, if the guy got too angry, he’d be certifiable. Then I remembered his bloody fists and when I looked down at the table where they lay I almost threw up. There was blood all over his hands and it didn’t look like it was his own. He caught me looking and smiled a sinister smile. He leaned in toward me so I’d have to focus on him and growled: “Stay the hell away from my wife.”

              “Excuse me? Who are you?”

              “Charley’s husband,” he said leaning back into his chair like he was proud of himself. I half-expected him to start beating his chest.

              “Oh” was all I could say.
Husband? When did she get married?
I thought.

              “I know about what you did to Adam.” He said without any segue.
How? Did Charley know?
Like I said, had I known he was the guy you were sleeping with it would’ve made more sense. Still, there was surprise on my face and it seemed to piss him off.

              “No asshole, Charley doesn’t know that you did it and it’s going to stay that way. I got Army friends. Told me why he was discharged. I don’t know how you did it, and I really don’t give a shit. You may have thought you were doing her a favor because you’re still in love with her or whatever, but I’m the one who fucking saved her when the party showed up at our door.

              “What are you talking about, man?”

              “I’m talking about that sonofabitch attacked my wife in our fucking house!”

              “What?”
Oh Jesus.
“Is that what happened to her? Is that why she’s here? How is she —”

              “I think you need to be more worried about your own well-being right now, dude, because I swear to God, if we weren’t in a public place I’d kick your fucking face in. Stay away from her.”

              “Man, I never thought --“

              “Just stay away from her, dude. I’m serious. If I find out you’re with her I will hurt you. Please test me on that.”

*****

I did go to see her. Her
sonofabitch
actually left her side while she was in the hospital. I walked into her room and saw her frail little body laid out on the white hospital bed. Her face a gradation of purple, her head bandaged. I sat down in the chair next to her bed and watched her. I wanted to touch her, but I was too afraid. I knew if I did, I might never stop touching her. So I just watched her breathe in and out for I don’t even know how long.

Then I left.

I need someone to talk to about her, someone who knows her. Someone who can help me figure out what to do. I sure as hell am not going to go back to Iris and mom is too close to the situation, knows too much. I found her in the white pages. It’s not hard to find, there aren’t that many therapists in town. I have to talk to her. I have to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Charley

              Collette is coming over today. I still haven’t been to the grocery store but she tells me not to worry, she’s bringing food and wine. I’ve taken a shower for the first time in a few days, careful to avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I hate how good the shower is making me feel. I hate that in a few moments Collette is going to see me. I know she’s going to say something. Something wonderful and awful and I’ll have to confess to her. She’ll make me spill my guts.

              She rings the doorbell even though she has a key to force me to answer it. She’s standing there in looking cute in her bad ass rocker chick getup. It’s really amazing to me that she’s a staunch professional. I wonder if her clients think it’s strange she’s got a Monroe piercing. She’s muttering an apology, for what I don’t really know until I see him bounding up the driveway.

              That’s when I break down into uncontrollable sobs. My friends. My family, really. They’re here, I’m sure to intervene. To get me out of my, as my mother called it, funk. I need them.

              Collette is quieter and more reserved than usual, she doesn’t even reach out to hug me like she usually does but instead is holding her hands in front of her not daring to enter. Markus on the other hand bounds up the walkway and scoops me into his arms. I’m half-sobbing, half-giggling when he puts me down on me feet in the living room. “Girl! What have you been doing? Where’s the rest of you?”

              “Dead,” I deadpan.

              “Oh hush!” he says not willing to acknowledge my black humor.

              “Charley, we’re just so worried about you. Markus insisted that he come see you,” Collette says basically apologizing for Markus being in my house. Who would’ve thought we’d see the day?

              “Honey I don’t know what you’re doing apologizing for me, Charley loves me. Isn’t that right, honey? I’m always invited.”

              “Only if you bring food,” Collette calls to the kitchen.

              “And wine,” I remark dryly.

              “Lucky for you bitches I have both,” and Markus, the consummate chef, is running out to the car to retrieve brown paper bags of goodies he’ll whip up into a gourmet meal. Collette pours us each a glass of rose and we sit on opposite ends of the couch. It strikes me how normal this feels. How nice it is in your absence. You never would’ve tolerated Markus just popping in. You hated the fact that I gave Collette a key, even if she didn’t ever use it.

              “So,” she starts taking a long sip from her glass. “Strange phone call.”

              “Yes, do tell,” I say sitting back into the corner of the sectional.

              “It was from Teddy.”

              For the second time in so many days I am hearing his name. What the hell is going on? Why, after everything, after all this time, is he cropping up in my life?

              “Charley,” Collette continues sucking in a breath. “He was calling…he asked about you.”

              “I’m sure that I can thank my mother for that. She called him yesterday to tell him how worried she is about me.”

              “Hmm, that makes sense. I mean, not that she should’ve done that but it makes sense why he’d reach out to me, though it’s strange he even knows about me. I’ve never spoken to him.”

              “What did you tell him?”

              “The truth,” knowing Collette she means the whole truth and nothing but. I feel the hives forming on my chest because she told him about You and Lacey.

              “He was genuinely concerned.”

              “Was that the first he’d heard?”

              “Not exactly.”

              “Collette. What do you mean ‘not exactly’?” Suddenly the room gets spinny. It never occurred to me that Teddy knew about the affair. Certainly if he had, he would’ve told me about it. But now…
Oh god!

              “He knew…before…didn’t he.”

              “I…it looks that way,” Collette is the picture of empathy which makes the news that much harder to bear.

              “Oh god,” I slump over, my elbows on my knees, supporting my head in my hands. Collette scoots over to rub my back consolingly.

              “I’m so sorry, Charley.”

              “I hate him,” I say to the floor.

              “Can’t say that I blame you, but--”

              Before we can utter another word Markus bounds back in the house with bags of ingredients for dinner and begins ruining my kitchen by removing pots and pans and utensils I haven’t thought of using in weeks. “I spoke with Brooke today he says, oblivious to the conversation that’s just transpired between Collette and I. She wanted to know how you were holding up.” Markus says sipping his Rose from the counter and filling a pot with water.

              “What did you tell her?”

              “I told her that you were doing much better and you’d be back soon.”

              “Thanks Markus. I really don’t need her breathing down my neck right now.”

              “I know sweetie, but you know we can’t do that opening without you.”

              “Yes, I know. I know I need to get back to work,” I feel guilty enough that I’ve taken as much time as I have. Brooke didn’t and she had
cancer
. “I know that I need to move on but I can’t. I’m stuck. My entire life has been derailed and I can’t get it back on.”

              “Oh, honey, just…”

              “I can’t do it anymore guys. I can’t…I don’t want to do it.”

              “Do what, Charley?” Collette is giving me her professionally concerned face. I can’t imagine what she thinks I meant.

              “Pretend that I don’t hate him!” They both look at each other and then look at me.“Markus, I know that you know.”

              “Honey
everyone
knows!”

              ”God, Markus! What’s wrong with you!” Collette screeches.

              “Oh my god.” I’m shaking my head and holding it in my hands. I can’t stop shaking it, even though I feel the wine sloshing around up there already.”

              “Charley,” Collette says in her therapist voice that’s supposed to be calming but right now makes me want to choke her. “Are you taking the pills you were prescribed?”

              “Collette! I don’t need to feel numb! I want to feel this. I need to feel this. I hate him!”

              “You go girl!” Markus cheers. “I just can’t bear to see you broken up over that cheating hetero!”

              “Markus! You’re not helping.” Collette chastises but I’m laughing. Really laughing.

              “Whatever. I’m going back to chopping. I’ll just imagine it’s
his
face!” He huffs.

              Now Collette is laughing, too. “Markus. Shut. The. Hell. Up!”

              “Everyone knows?” I ask Collette between hysterical breaths.

              “Charley,” she says to me somberly, “they were in that car together. I’m sorry,” Collette says,  placing a consoling hand on my arm.

              “I’m not sad. I’m angry. I’m humiliated.”

              There seemed to be more that Collette wanted to say, but we just sat quietly. She with her arm around me, me with my head on her shoulder.

              “Baby girl! You need to get some goddamned food in this house!” Markus called, his head as far back in my pantry as he could fit it. “How long has it been since you’ve been shopping?”

              “Ugh, I know,” I groan. “I’m going later tonight.”