Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (33 page)

****

Heather showered while the girls finished their homework and once in a fresh pair of sweats, she emerged from the bathroom and strolled into her bedroom. Lance stood there with his back to her. Her eyes veiled themselves with doubt, but there comes a time when diversions and avoidance are no longer options. Face what life deals you.

A drop of water fell from her bangs and landed on her cheek. The image of sweaty-guy saying “great class” to her as they departed reinstated her confidence. There were plenty of guys out there for her.

Heather tiptoed back to the bedroom door and shut it. Lance whirled around, his scan ping-ponged from her and then to the door. He tilted his head up and a booming laugh erupted. “If you’re going to apologize, save it. I’m sure after several days of not speaking to you, you’ve withered, but I assure you, I am not that forgiving. It will take a lot more than an apology for me to exonerate you.”

A sneer touched the corner of her lips, she made a vague sound in her throat. “I want a divorce,” slithered out in a low murmur, too low for him to hear.

“And another thing, I intend to have a grand Christmas party here with my colleagues from the firm, and you will insure that my making partner is mentioned– ”

“I want a divorce,” she hollered.

Lance stiffened. ‘What?”

“I…Want…A…Divorce.”

Lance winced, shook his head and then snickered. “Divorce? Are you mad? Divorce Lance Milanesi? Do you know how many other woman would kill to have me?”

“Just one. Your mother.”

“How dare you.” He jerked his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. “I forbid it.”

“Too bad.” Heather sneered.

“How can you do this to me? Ruin my image. What will the firm think?” Giddiness overtook him. He spread his fingers out in a fan against his chest. “I’ll ruin you. You’ll get nothing.”

“I’m not afraid, I have a good job. I don’t want your alimony, you will have to pay child support though and since you spend zero time with your daughters, visitation will not be a problem.”

“You’re serious?” His voice now shaky, soft, halting.

“Never more. I’m not walking down this aisle again. I opened an account in a separate bank and secured my own lawyer. You’ll be hearing from him.”

“You can’t do this to me.” Lance backed away, his shoulders hunched, eyes became vacant. He looked at her, mouth open but no more words surfaced.

“You’re blind, self-absorbed, and a terrible husband and father. You don’t deserve us. You want the world to revolve around you? Well, now it will. It will be all about you. You no longer have to worry about the four of us embarrassing you and forcing you to do childish things.”

Lance collapsed on the side of the bed and placed his head in his hands.

“I’ve closed my eyes on this ride for too long. It’s time for me to open them, throw my hands into the air and enjoy
my
ride for a change.”

“What the hell are you babbling about? What ride?”

Heather retreated and walked out the door. Lance followed her into the kitchen where Laurel and Gia ate brownies. “You listen here– ” he began.

She shot him a glare. “Don’t you dare bring this up in here.”

Chapter 50
Catherine

Catherine sat in the church pew alone. Peter was on the other side with their children. Almost two weeks had passed without speaking to him. The hurt was too great.

She could see him looking at her from the corner of her eye as the priest began his Sunday homily.

“With Thanksgiving less than two weeks away, I would like to speak about family and for us to be thankful for that alone. Not possessions or goods...”

Catherine glanced at her Michael Kors bag. Thoughts of Odessa and things Heather had mentioned entered her mind. She shoved it aside, then flung it onto the floor.

“…as you sit around your Thanksgiving table, whether it be a family of two, or a grand affair, be thankful for the people in your life and what they bring to the table. And I don’t mean the food.” The priest chuckled along with half the congregation.

In no mood to laugh, Catherine played with the loose thread on her skirt.

“…it is the people that shape our lives and make us who we are today, each one bringing their special gift...”

She was tired of giving. She did everything for Peter and the boys, all the cooking and cleaning, raising their children while he worked long hours, practically ignoring her. Sure they had nice things, but what did that prove, and to whom?

The conversation with Heather last night about her divorce proceedings sounded ideal.

Catherine bent forward. Bentley played rock, paper, scissors with Emily keeping her occupied. The increased time she spent with Bentley improved their relationship. She initially thought Peter should be a big part of the boy’s lives, but when she shut Bentley and Colton out, it only damaged her relationship with them. They wanted a mother as much as a father. Bentley would be twelve soon, but he still needed time to play and have fun and she needed to have fun with all of them.

Colton leaned in and showed Emily the Steeple People hand trick. She giggled. Perhaps Catherine behaved the same way with Peter. She had so many responsibilities she forgot to have fun. No wonder Peter ventured out with his friends so often. In college, they had the times of their lives. Heather even ridiculed her for being an uptight bitch.

Catherine laughed. She disliked Heather so much when she met her. Looking back, Heather only tried to get her to loosen up, live, experience life and enjoy it to the fullest. The activities Heather did with her girls had made Catherine jealous, but now she held on tight to the rest of her children’s carefree days and made the most of them.

She experienced life with Mangle. He helped her in a twisted, perverted way but everyone comes into your life for a reason. Maybe she needed someone like Mangle to bring it out of her. Lord knows Heather tried. Peter too.

“Which leads us to the start of the family,” the priest continued. “Husband and wife, for surely they are the start of every family. For a marriage to succeed it requires effort, a couple growing together. The relationship should always move forward, if not, then it may move in reverse until they’ve gone back too far...”

When did life become so busy that you lose sight of each other? Passing each other as you run from one life event to another. It’s a team effort and everything should be shared, chores, children, fun times, too.

“…those who kept fidelity proved that they can survive and grow…”

Catherine curled her toes. She had pushed these feelings of guilt away but now in church, with her family so close, they rose again. Who was she to chastise Peter when she cheated on him? Perhaps he did the same, but none of this had solved anything. What a mess.

“…faithfulness is not just about avoiding another with whom you have relations with. Faithfulness is staying together and working out your differences to come up with solutions. The day you walked down the aisle, you chose one another. Then let that day be a reminder of your promise. For as Jesus had once said, whoever divorces and marries another, commits adultery.”

The five of them returned home from church and changed their clothes. They grabbed garbage bags and rakes, then collected the remainder of the leaves from the front lawn. Peter assembled a pile of leaves near the driveway, then laughed when the three of them jumped in and out and spread the leaf pile further and further away. Reds, yellows, oranges, like a fruit basket, flew into the air and floated into remote corners.

A tear trickled down her face and mixed with leaf dust and dirt. The rake handle, no longer in her grip, plunged and smashed the crumpled leaves beneath it. She stared at her family. Then turned, and ran.

She sprinted down the street past her neighbor’s house.

“Mom, where you going?” Bentley shouted.

Catherine yanked the hood from her sweatshirt over her head. She rounded the corner and continued up the street, her feet pounded the sidewalk. She sucked in air, water vapor filtered out of her mouth, and she worked through the pain in her side.

She crossed the street and headed west to the next neighborhood. Cold air pierced through her lungs. Clean, brisk air. Fog released from beneath her nose in short quick gasps, her blood circulated, but fingers numbed from the frosty air.

Time alone. Far away from where she was, who she was. Her body thawed. The warm light sprinkled through the remaining maple leaves. The roads were still, she was just a lone runner treading along. No one disturbed her, her mind cleared. Free and vibrant.

Autumn colors paved her way down the roads. Branches snapped under her feet. She slowed her pace to let her breath catch up but then jogged again once more. She hiked uphill, her shins stung, but Catherine surged through the pain. She detected sweat stream down her shirt although the cold air turned her nose cardinal red. Her mind wandered.

With each slap of her feet, stress released. She entered the next neighborhood unsure how she would make it home, but for the first time she was doing something for herself. She could think, far away from everyone and everything. Maybe not forget, but purge herself. Inner demons flew off into the leafless trees.

She glanced down at her expensive sneakers realizing why they cost so much. They hugged her feet and propelled her farther. This was a healthier way to work out her emotions. She never knew how amazing something as simple as a run could make you feel. It was magical. She dreamed of something greater. She could be great you know, prized as much as a stupid handbag. Cherished and respected, loved for the person she was.

Running saved her life that day.

Catherine leaped over a Sunday newspaper and sucked in another deep mouthful of air. “Yeah!” She waved her fist in the air pretending she was Rocky. “Yeah!” She skipped to the following neighborhood, then did a cartwheel down the center of the road, narrowly missing a Mercedes. The driver rolled down her window and gawked at Catherine. It was Odessa.

****

Catherine trudged up the street, her home in view, family no longer outside. Her runner’s high, paired with fiery emotions, made her cringe at the sight of the five leaf bags lining the street.

She entered through the garage and found Peter on the couch. Emily put the last piece into her Hello Kitty puzzle.

“Where were you? Where did you go now?” Peter demanded.

“I went for a run.”

“Since when?”

“Since today.” She removed her damp sweatshirt and threw it on the rug.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Bentley strolled in with his hands in his pockets. “Come on Emily, I have this cool game to show you.” He lifted her up and wandered out.

Peter dipped his chin, hid his gaze. A loud swallow followed. He fell back into the couch and wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t even know you anymore Catherine. When we met you were so quiet. I remember when you entered that party with those girls, you stood out. They donned that stupid mile-high permed hair, giant hoop earrings, chewing gum like repulsive cows, all with their mini-skirts and belly shirts – no jackets of course, despite the cold temps.”

“What…what are you talking about?” Catherine collapsed onto the couch.

“But you. You walked in with that giant green winter coat. It came down to your ankles.” Peter laughed. “You took it off, hung it in the closet neatly and then turned. You had this light purple sweater on with a pair of jeans, white Keds. I wasn’t sure where you came from or how you got in.”

“You remember what I wore?”

“I watched you for an hour. You had the same beer in your hand. Maybe you took a sip or two, faked it at best. You never noticed me, but I kept an eye on you. When the group started dancing I approached you.”

“I remember, I thought it was a joke.”

“A joke?”

“I couldn’t understand why someone like you wanted to talk to me.”

Peter scratched his forehead. “Tired of the same old, same old. Just broke up with another melodramatic twit. Curious, I guess. I asked you to dance but you refused to look me in the eye.”

“I was nervous. No, petrified.”

“You were cute, though. Very sweet.”

Catherine shifted on the couch. “Peter, what’s the point of this? I’m really not– ”

“I thought about you all night after you left. Soon this quirky fun side came out of you. I like to think I brought it out. I fell in love with that girl. I loved my college years but that last year, with you, made me see things through your eyes, things I never noticed before were suddenly visible.”

Catherine quivered, unsure if it was from the jog or his words.

“When we graduated I was devastated that we wouldn’t see each other every day, I couldn’t wait to move in with you. Our first apartment, that was really something. We had so much fun and all I thought about was marrying you.”

“I thought it was all a dream, kept thinking I was going to wake up,” Catherine said.

“I thought we brought out the best in each other. I even offered for you to stay home, raise the kids, not have to work. I thought you enjoyed it. But then…you became this miserable person. I gave you more money to do things with, but you just shopped and shopped, bringing home more objects, but it never made you happy.”

Catherine sniffled, wiped her nose.

“I thought maybe it was because we had boys but when Emily was born, you pulled away from me more. The boys, too. I tried to take them out and away from you, but you just yelled and nagged all the time.” He ran his hands through his hair. “For years you only seemed to find joy in cleaning the house, I don’t get it.”

“Well the house needed to be cleaned– ”

“No, I’ve seen their closets, Cath. I went into Emily’s closet to get a jacket. What’s with that? Color-coded, lined up? The boys showed me their closets, too. Then the sex stopped. You never really seemed into it, faking it I thought. But after Emily was born, you told me I needed to take a shower first, brush my teeth, the lights had to be off. Do I repulse you?”

“No! No, of course not.”

“Then you wanted to go back to work. It was like you were avoiding me. I thought maybe you were overwhelmed so I took the boys to their games, bought them some video games, tried to give you time alone with Emily.”