Elly In Bloom (23 page)

She gulped to catch her breath. Aaron looked shocked, as though she had slapped him.

“So what do you do? You find some whore to sleep with? IN OUR BED!?”

Aaron muttered something under his breath.

Elly snapped at him. “What did you just say?”

Aaron looked at his feet. “I said she isn’t a whore.”

Elly felt her heart seize. She knew that voice, that tone. That worshipful, adoring and all-encompassing tone. It was the same tone he had used when he proposed to Elly.
Oh God, he loved her.
A tear ran down her face as her voice contorted into sobs.

“What is she? Someone you met at a coffee shop? The secretary at the gallery?”

“She is an art student. Her name is-“

She cut him off. “I don’t ever want to know her name.” Elly sobbed quietly. “I want you to leave. Right now.”

Aaron touched her shoulder. “Els, we can talk about this.”

Elly’s heart wavered for a second, teetering between eruption and acceptance. Then she saw her, the red headed girl, clutching Aaron’s hand as she moved on top of him.

“No. Get out. I want you as far as possible from me.”

Aaron pushed past her, angry now. “You did this to yourself, you know. Maybe you should have thought about what being married to someone so needy was like.” He spun around and faced her. “I can’t even paint because I’m so tired of worrying about your needs. All the time, wanting to talk about your job, or your feelings, or your mother. I feel like I’m married to a middle aged woman. At least
she
inspires me.” He gestured downstairs, to where Elly knew the red-headed half-naked homewrecker waited.

“She listens to me. She worships my work. She understands me.” He paused. “She goes to the gym.”

In his eyes, Elly saw a pleading weakness, that he was trying to sound more confident than he felt. She realized that this show was not for her benefit, but she didn’t care. She felt herself crumbling; an old city, piece by piece, and she could not have them here.

“I will not tell you again. Leave.”

Aaron pounded down the stairs. She could hear him mumbling in hushed tones to the girl. Then she heard the girl’s voice, ringing clear and aggressive.

“No. Don’t go up there. Come with me.”

The front door slammed. Elly’s breathing became labored.

“Oh God!” she cried out loud. She ran up the stairs, two at a time, tripping and stumbling over her feet. She flung open the studio door and focused her sights on Aaron’s newest painting, Evening Ghosts. With an inhuman cry, she grabbed a cloudy glass of water that sat by the painting, holding used brushes. She flung the water onto the painting. Iris and tulips melted before her eyes into a cloudy, carnival smear. And with that, Elly sank to the ground, feeling a bittersweet relief at letting the sobs propel her into hysteria.

She cried until the daylight faded into evening and then sat numbly, waiting. Waiting for Aaron to return. Waiting to wake up from this terrible dream – telling herself that it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be. The dark sky churned thick humid air onto the streets and her house sat wrapped in fog. Covered in her mother’s favorite shawl, Elly silently watched out the window, watching her neighbors return from work, unaware that the life next door had been broken apart. She longed to scream questions at them. Had they never noticed a stray car? How long had this been going on? Was it love? Was it sex? How did it begin?

Elly had always known that Aaron was admired by the female sex. He was handsome and artistic, a deadly combination for women of all types. He had overtaken Elly with a smile, that’s all it took. One admiring glance and she had given it all over to him: her life, her virginity, her bank account. It was like taking candy from a baby. Elly pondered how within each woman lay a tightly wrapped box of secrets, the worst of these being that they would throw it all away for someone to love them. Aaron had flung open the box and her love, like bees, swarmed around him, living on his kisses like honey. Elly stifled a sob. She had learned from her mother’s death that even when the tears dried up, the sounds still came. The guttural gasps that were completely unattractive and very un-ladylike brought the most satisfaction. It wasn’t the tears; those, it seemed, just made her face wet. She raised her blanket into her mouth and bent over.

Elly was sitting in front of her picture window when the car pulled up around midnight. She saw Aaron step out of the passenger side.
He brought her back,
she thought
; he brought his lover back to our house.
He walked over their lawn and through Elly’s carefully planted flowerbeds. She heard his key in the lock and thought too late to try and hold the door shut. It swung open. Aaron stood warily before her, his tan and black leather jacket sitting tightly on his flat shoulders. He had large dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was combed back messily.

“Elly,” he said softly. Elly felt her chest rise with anger, but once her eyes met his, it deflated. She was tired. And she loved him. He had broken her, and she would never be right again. There were no words to say, words that would fall on him would not shame, only vindicate. Elly was done. Wrapping her shawl tight around her, she gave Aaron a withering look as she stood, swaying on her feet.

“I just came to grab my things,” he said nervously as he ran his hand through his hair. “Elly, please understand.”

Elly walked past him, brushing his arm slightly with hers. She slowly climbed the stairs, feeling in each step that her heart was growing heavy and jaded. Once she got into the bedroom, she stopped in the doorway. She closed her eyes and saw it again, the red hair twisted in his hand, the long back, Aaron’s contorted and ecstatic face. Elly cried out loud and ran forward, ripping the sheets off the bed, down to the mattress. The bed now bare, she lay down, her mother’s shawl wrapped around her. She pressed her face down on the naked mattress, the mattress that had once held a wife and now had held a lover. She cried out for strength, but felt empty inside, as her prayers disappeared into the night air. Sleep came and went, encompassing her violently and then leaving just as suddenly. But Aaron never came. She waited all night, and he never came back. In the morning, Elly packed a sandwich cooler, a bottle of water and her wedding dress, and without knowing it, turned her car toward St. Louis.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Present Day

“Oh my goodness, is she okay?”

“Is she bleeding?”

“We should call 911.”

“Make sure you pull her shirt down before she wakes up.”

“Should we sit her up?”

“She’s so heavy!”

Elly slowly opened her eyes to the fuzzy faces of Anthony, Snarky Teenager and Sunny Kepke. Cadbury was barking hysterically.

“Eleanor dear, are you alright?” Sunny asked anxiously, wringing her hands. “You fainted!”

Anthony’s face was paralyzed with concern. “Elly, I was about to call an ambulance.” He spoke very slowly. “Would you like me to do that?”

Elly shook her head. Snarky Teenager smiled sympathetically at her and then Elly felt fingers travel over her stomach.

“I’m just going to pull this down.”

Kill me now
, thought Elly. She hesitantly put her arms underneath her and pushed her body up into a sitting position.
What happened
, she wondered.
Why am I on the ground?
Anthony hastily brought her a glass of water. Elly reached up with one hand to rub her eyes.

“How did I...” Her eyes traveled down her body to the print clasped in her hand.
The painting. Aaron. Sunny. Sunny’s daughter
. Her chest shook like it would implode. She felt the uncomfortable tightness in her throat and she knew it was mere minutes before she was wailing at the top of her lungs.
Keep it together
, she thought.

As much as she wanted to tell Sunny Kepke that her daughter was the home wrecker who stole her husband from her, she knew, looking into Sunny’s bright green eyes – the same eyes, she realized, that has flashed by Elly that fateful day in the stairwell – that she couldn’t. Not at this moment, anyway.

“I’m so sorry. I – I think my blood sugar must have been low.”

“Do you have diabetes?” Sunny asked.

“Um, no. But – maybe?” said Elly, trying desperately to save face and get out of there as quickly as possible.

“I knew it,” breathed Snarky Teenager.

Elly handed the print to her. “I think I should go upstairs and go lay down. I’m feeling pretty woozy.”

Sunny put out a frail arm to help her. “Here, let me help you dear.”

Elly rose shakily to her feet. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
I will never be fine again
. “Anthony can help me upstairs and into bed.”

“Are you sure?” Elly refrained herself from yelling, “Your daughter is a WHORE!” and said instead, “Yes, Sunny, thank you so much. I’ve had a long morning.”

Snarky Teenager made a face. “All you did today was eat gelato,” she pointed out. She glanced down at the card. Elly watched her expression go from one of confusion to one of understanding as she read the artist’s name. Her mouth opened slightly and a look of honest, mature empathy crossed her face – a look Elly had never seen before.

“Yes. Let’s get Elly into bed. I can run the store while she rests.”

Elly gave her a grateful look. “Sunny, I’ll call you next week. I’m sorry about this.”

Sunny hugged her tightly, he eyes filled with sympathy. “I hope you feel better. Don’t be embarrassed, dear, I come from a long line of fainters.”

Sunny headed out the front door, and Anthony led Elly upstairs, followed by Snarky Teenager. Anthony let Elly fall onto her couch and grabbed a cold cloth for her head.

“You’re wonderful,” she murmured to him.

Snarky Teenager knelt beside her. “Is that Aaron Schuster, as in your ex-husband?”

Elly’s lip quivered. “Yes. And please, I can’t talk about it now. I really just want to sleep.”

Snarky Teenager her hand tightly. “Okay. I understand.” She paused. “And may I just say, what a douche-bag.”

Elly felt a smile crack her crumbling face. “Thanks. I want to be alone now.”

“Okay.”

Anthony and Snarky Teenager headed downstairs and Elly could hear whispering all the way down the stairs. Cadbury, sensing Elly’s sadness, climbed up onto the couch and lay his heavy head down on her chest. Elly stared at the ceiling. How could this happen? Why would God do this to her? How could Aaron be back in her life without her permission? How did he find her, when she had stayed hidden for so long? Elly’s tears drifted down her cheeks onto the couch, creating a wet spot on the tan fabric. She wanted to hide away, forever. The door to her past had been flung wide open, and everyone in her life was now looking through it, curious and judgmental. She picked up the phone to try and call Kim. It went straight to voicemail.

“Hi! You’ve reached Kim and Sean. We aren’t here right now…well, I mean, it’s a cell phone, so maybe we are, but…” The phone beeped loudly in Elly’s ear. She sniffled.

“Hi Kim, it’s me. I just um, wanted to talk. I know you already saw me today, but -” Her voice caught in her throat. “It’s about Aaron. The shop is probably closing early, but I’ll be here all night. Please call me back.”

Elly hung up the phone and closed her eyes, letting sleep wrap its strong arms around her. She woke up around five in the evening, as the sun was starting to sink in the sky. Elly got up, washed her face and pulled on her pajamas. She grabbed a full bottle of wine and headed down into the now-empty studio.

In the middle of the studio stood the table set for Sunny Kepke’s wedding. No, Lucia Kepke’s wedding. Aaron’s perfect, shining wedding. She saw the writhing back, the single bead of sweat. The white orchids basked in the blinding sun, and all the gold on the table seemed to radiate light. Elly grabbed the consultation form that Sunny had given to Anthony.
Name of Bride: Lucia Kepke,
it read.
Name of Groom: Aaron Schuster.

So it was. She crumpled the paper in her hand and dropped it to the floor. She looked at the table again. A rage churned up inside of her, and with a loud cry, Elly flung the candelabra across the room. She smashed the mirrored gold votives against the wall, followed by gold chargers that clanged loudly. Screaming out loud she ripped the blown garden roses into shreds, followed by the monogrammed orchids. Flower petals flowed over her hair, the floor and the table like snow. Elly clawed at the curly willow, flinging it around her, slashing open her hand in the process. She pulled the beaded linen out from under the remaining plates and vases, which resulted in a satisfying loud crash. She grabbed a wooden chair and hurled it at the design table. Elly let out a painful scream – followed by a curse that would have made her mother blush, and threw the table over. Her beautiful glass table, filled with thank you notes, fell to the ground, the glass cracking and shattering all over the floor. Elly collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily, sobbing loudly and hysterically.