Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (14 page)

“I don’t understand how she gets away with this. It’s ludicrous. Tyrell you have to go to human resources about her, she’s harassing you. You’re in a hostile work environment.”

“Like they’ll believe me over her. Please, you don’t get it, I’m nobody. And besides, administration loves her.”

Chapter 20
Catherine

Catherine cut through the cafeteria to find an ice bucket for Jean. She removed one from a shelf above the sink and caught site of Victoria and Heather at a small table behind the cash register. Their heads hung low, only inches apart, whispering. Again. She had enough.

Catherine left the ice bucket in Jean’s office, glad the troll no longer sat in her massive throne. She marched back into the cafeteria to confront them, but found only Heather standing near a garbage can, sipping the last of the contents in her Styrofoam cup. She approached, heaving in deep breaths, the smell of breakfast sausage still lingered.

“It’s bad enough you talk to me like trash but I will not tolerate you talking behind my back.”

Heather whipped around. “What are you talking about? Who’s talking behind your back?”

“You and Victoria, I saw you.”

Heather glanced at the table and then back to Catherine. “What makes you think we’re talking about you?”

“Come on, the two of you are always in the corner somewhere whispering. Whenever I approach, you instantly stop.”

“And that means we’re talking about you?” Heather chucked her cup into the garbage. The wrinkles between her eyes grew heavy.

“It’s so obvious. Don’t patronage me, I’ve had enough.”

Heather’s scowl dissolved and her eyebrows lifted. She bit down on her lower lip as if thinking, then a long, draining huff expelled. “Come with me.” She grabbed Catherine’s arm and guided her to the table she previously occupied with Victoria.

After a long pause, Heather threw her hair back into a ponytail and arched in. “Catherine, I’m truly sorry–”

“I knew it,” she screeched. Heather obviously hated her and now the truth would come out.” Her quivering increased and spread to every cell in her body.

“No, no, you don’t. Stop! Will you just stop talking? This is very difficult for me. Either listen or I’ll leave.”

Catherine jerked her head back, her skin still tingling. “Fine, speak.”

Heather squeezed her eyes shut and paused for almost a minute. Did she fall asleep?

“I’ve been sleeping with Dr. Silvatri.”

Her words, unexpected and indistinguishable. Catherine sat in silence not knowing what to say. The words forming in her mouth were harsh but she held her tongue waiting for Heather to finish.

Heather’s breathing shifted into labored gasps. “I don’t know how to explain this to you, it’s hard.”

“Oh, but you have no problem telling Victoria, is that it?”

“Listen Catherine, I don’t have to tell you anything. You going to listen or not?”

Catherine swung from enraged to curious and chose to shut up.

“Look, as much as you think I have this perfect life, I don’t. I’ve been a good wife, no, a great wife for over fifteen years. I appear unhappy when you see me, because inside I’m dying. Every day I struggle, I deserve so much more.”

“So cheating’s the answer?”

“See, I’m not so perfect now, am I?”

“Is this a joke? This is why you did it, to prove to me that you’re not perfect, that you’re some badass that refuses to follow rules?”

“Yes Catherine, that’s why I decided to cheat on my wonderful husband. To make a point to you.”

Heather lurched up to leave but Catherine seized her hand and dragged her back down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m just confused, it makes no sense. You’re Catholic, like me.”

“What does that have to do with anything? Look, you’ll obviously never understand and that’s why I didn’t tell you and now you’ll probably run around the hospital telling everyone. Go ahead, I don’t care anymore.”

“I would never do that, is that what you think? I thought we were a team but you always make me feel left out.” Catherine put her hand to her temple and rubbed. “Look Heather, my life’s not perfect either, but cheating? How does that solve anything?”

“It doesn’t, but it gives me an escape. An outlet, remember?”

“Gardening is an outlet, not cheating.”

“In your pretentious world it is.”

“How dare you. You have no idea what my life is like.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I just see this façade of Aldo boots and Coach bags and the fake smile to go with it. Who is Catherine Bordeau, or does she even know?”

“Why do you hate me?”

“Hate you? I can’t hate you. It’s impossible to hate someone that’s not real. You don’t even know who you are. You try to impress everyone and make them like you. You appease everyone but yourself. What do
you
like, what do
you
want, what is
your
goal in life? How can I possibly hate someone that doesn’t exist? When you figure out who the real Catherine Bordeau is then I’ll let you know if I like her or not.”

“I hate my life, alright.” Tears filled and then plunged from Catherine’s eyes. “I hate everything about it, from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. My only hope is I won’t have nightmares when I sleep and maybe those few hours will be wonderful. I have no friends, my kids hate me and I hate Peter. I wish him dead sometimes. Dead. Isn’t that horrible?”

Heather stood and gathered a cluster of napkins from the dispenser behind them. “Catherine I’m sorry, I had no idea. You hide everything from us.” She handed the napkins to Catherine and put her hand on her shoulder with hesitance. “I’m messed up and tormented as well, and no, this isn’t the answer. But you know what? I’m happy. For the first time in a long time I have something to look forward to every day. I come to work, avoid Jean as much as possible, and look for him. I’m surviving.”

Catherine wiped her tears and then raised her head up to Heather. For the first time they looked long and hard at each other. “What made it happen? Why’d you do it?”

“Well…it’s not the first time.”

“Heather, no.”

“Listen, you might as well know everything. This is the hardest part for me.” Heather took half the stack of napkins.

“Catherine, when I met Lance I was young, seventeen, and he had it all. Good looks, off to college to become a lawyer, drove a Nissan 300zx, high profile friends and family. At seventeen, that’s what it’s all about, right? What the hell did I know? I watched my parents struggle financially for years, I didn’t want them worrying about my future.

Then, halfway through my first year of college, I met this guy at work. Nicolo. He was only there a short time but the connection was immediate, we became friends instantly. Inseparable. I couldn’t wait to go to work every day to see him. I never felt that way with Lance. Never.

I took off from work one Friday because Lance bought tickets for a show in the city. I returned to work Monday to find they fired Nicolo. That was it, he was gone, forever. I had no way of getting in touch with him.” Heather paused again, gripping the napkins in her right hand.

“Five years later, I went to happy hour with my friend Brooke. It was March. I remember clearly, because I was finishing my master ’s degree and was numb from the coursework. And there he was. I didn’t recognize him at first, neither of us recognized each other, but we connected. Again. Talked all night. The bond was still there. Well, I wasn’t going to let him get away a second time. We exchanged numbers, talked for hours on the phone and well, eventually it just happened.”

“What happened?” Catherine asked.

She broadened her eyelids and tilted her head. “It was inevitable I guess, the best year of my life. We proceeded into a torrid love affair that extended the course of the year. We fell in love, deeply. I knew I wanted him, it was always him. I planned to tell Lance that weekend.

Lance took me to dinner Sunday night and the plan was to break up with him then, but Lance had to be Lance and it wasn’t a romantic dinner for two. He rented the back room in the restaurant and, as only Lance could do, proposed to me in a way that I could not refuse.”

“Oh, Heather.”

“We married a year later and– ”

“Wait what happened to the guy?”

Heather’s eyes flooded now and her hands began to shake. “A year later we married and then I became pregnant a year after that. It was good for Lance, good for his profile. A hotshot lawyer looking to make partner and having that wife and kid by his side. Well, two years after I had Laurel, I became pregnant with Gia. I’m walking through the mall one day in March to get my friend Brooke a baby shower gift and there he was. Five years since I last saw him but I recognized his walk immediately.”

“What did he say?”

“I never spoke to him. What would I say? Plus, pregnant and all. I hid or something, I really don’t remember. I was ashamed…mortified how I ended it.”

“How did you end it?” Catherine’s head continued to wave, her mouth wide open.

Heather ignored her question. “So, I had Gia and then five years later on the first day of spring, I decide to take the kids to the beach. Lance and I fought continuously at this point and I needed to get away. On the drive there, I decided I had to leave him, I couldn’t fake it anymore. I wasn’t in love with him, I never was. He just wanted me around to look good for the firm.

So, I’m entering the boardwalk, the girls run to the sand and Bam! He’s right there in front of me with some woman with a big huge rock on her finger. This time he recognized me though. He looked different. Thin and almost sickly, like one of Victoria’s terminal cancer patients on 5 North”

“Did you talk? Did you get his number?”

Heather glared at her once again. Catherine, unable to follow the story. “He was with a girl with an engagement ring on her finger. What did you want me to say? It was a horrible, awkward five-minute conversation. I never even looked at the woman. The sun just kept hitting the ring. I felt like she twisted her hand on purpose to blind me. She could have been four feet tall with purple hair and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was dumbfounded, sick to my stomach. We couldn’t talk at all.

If you can follow this part of the story, Rori is six years younger than Gia. Yes she was an oops, a big one. I dreamed about Nicolo all night after that day on the beach, it was so vivid, so real. He really was there with me. But I woke up realizing it was Lance that I just had sex with. Rori was indeed a surprise and so I couldn’t leave Lance then.” Heather’s fingers circled the pen marks on the table, getting lost in her thoughts. “Five years later– ”

“Come one now,” Catherine said. This was too much. Every five years? Surely, she was making this up.

“Five years later,” Heather shouted, “in March, my two co-workers and I are sitting in Peaz and Chaos and who walks in?”

Catherine gasped, finally following one part of the story. “It was him, that guy with the Mets cap. Oh God Heather, I don’t know what to say.” Goose bumps flooded her arms. She sat back in her chair and rubbed her hands up and down them. “You got his number though, I saw you, this time you got it.”

“Sure I got it. I stared at it all week. Then one night I had another amazing dream about him. We were twenty-four again, he was holding my hand and turned to look at me like he always did. I woke in the middle of the sex part of the dream and found stupid Lance next to me snoring. I got up this time though, and crawled into Laurel’s bed. The next morning I came to work and met Silvatri. He made the hair on my skin vibrate.”

Catherine laughed but inside, jealousy brewed. She tried to brush it off. “Do you love him?’

“Who, Nicolo?”

“No, Silvatri.”

“Silvatri?” Heather shook her head. “No. Just a distraction, I guess. He makes me feel. Feel something anyway, I’ve been numb for so long.”

“Are you leaving Lance?”

“No, I can’t. Rori is confused enough with both her siblings attending middle school and she hasn’t even started kindergarten yet. She needs some stability. Plus, Lance just made partner, then the car accident…there’s never a good time.”

“But you’re miserable—all the time, every day.” Catherine grimaced at her remark. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right, I was. But the last few weeks have been uplifting.”

“You have been happier. You’re even hassling Jean less.”

Heather laughed. “I do like taking my anger out on her, though.” She took Catherine’s hand. “I’m sorry I took it out on you, and I’m sorry you feel your life is horrible too. I guess we have more in common than we thought.”

Catherine gave Heather’s hand a tight squeeze and a smile erupted. “More than you know.”

Chapter 21
Victoria

The article for the
Long Island Perspective Magazine
shook in Victoria’s hand. She had submitted it along with photos earlier in the week and now the editor asked to meet with her. Was it that bad?

Before leaving the house, Victoria applied lipstick to brighten her pallid face. All color had drained from it and ran down to her toes.

Ed increased the dent in the couch as reruns of
Cheers
blasted from the TV. He had not spoken to her since she failed to return home that Friday from her conference to cook him dinner. The mouthwatering meal and gorgeous company fogged her memory. More disturbing was that she didn’t care.

“I’m meeting with
Long Island Perspective Magazine
now.” Silence. “The editor wants to discuss the article with me.” Nothing. She didn’t bother telling him when she’d be home, tired of always having to update him on her schedule down to the minute. He would spend the weekend on the couch. The idea of friends and hobbies eluded him.

Victoria waited as Pearlie Zelman reviewed the article in front of her. More silence. Doubt soaked into her pores. Perhaps it was not as good as she thought. She found her inspiration though. She pretended Aiden sat beside her as she clicked away on her computer.

The woman read the text closely, evaluating the effectiveness of the piece. She finished, placed the paper down beside her and clasped her hands as if in prayer.

“Victoria,” she began, “as an editor, I enjoy publishing things that will actually be read and appreciated. I receive hundreds of articles that simply bore me. It’s unusual that I would reach out to someone who wrote an advertorial, but this caught my eye. Although you’re just advertising for an event, your writing style is dazzling. Exciting. It made me feel as if I need to run this race. Yes, it’s for a good cause, but lately my evening jogs around the neighborhood have been so dull I’ve been putting them off. After reading this, I think this may be what I need to get myself back into it. A focus, a goal.”