Knowing Is Not Enough (2 page)

“Huh—all right,” she said, then paused. “The only reason I asked about Jake is because I saw him Friday.”

“You saw Jake?” I was confused. “You couldn’t have—he’s out of town, won’t be back until tomorrow.”

“No,” Liz said, “I’m pretty sure it was Jake.”

“I don’t think so, Liz, maybe somebody who looked like Jake.”

She insisted, “Alex, I’m sorry, but I know Jake when I see him. There isn’t that many men out there that look like Jake. The man I saw Friday with this tall woman was Jake.”

Tall woman
. “What did she look like?”

Liz hesitated for a minute, “She was pretty.”

“But what did she look like, Liz?” I asked, not that I needed a description. I knew in my heart who she was talking about.

“I don’t know Alex, she was tall−”

“Okay—she’s tall, what else? Did she have short curly hair?” Fearing each response, I needed to know.

“I’m trying of think of who she looks like, but yes—short and curly—really light eyes. I wasn’t that close to her, I really couldn’t say what color but they were light. I focused on him not her. I knew she wasn’t you, but—”

My pounding heart rang in my ears. “Okay, I think I know who he was with.”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Liz offered. “I thought you should know.”

“No, no—it’s not your fault,” I said. I didn’t want to be short, but I literally hadn’t talked to Liz in forever and out of the blue she calls me and outs my husband as an adulterer. “Did you see anything else?”

Sorrowful, she said, “No, not really.”

I could hear it in her voice that wasn’t true, “Liz, I can tell there’s something more—please tell me. You know if I ask Jake he’s not going to tell me the truth. You called me . . . tell me, what did you see?” I pleaded.

Liz hesitated, “Well—I did see them kiss—I think.” Her words wrapped around my heart, squeezing every vessel bleeding inside out.

My voice cracked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I debated whether I should call and tell you. Now I’m thinking it wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

There were tears streaming down my face. I ignored them. “Did you talk to him?”

“No, I stayed at my table until I saw him at the valet service.”

I could feel my stomach tightening. “Did he recognize you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry Alex, I didn’t want—”

“That’s okay Liz, I understand. Did you see anything else?”

“Not that I recall.” She paused. “Oh, wait, I saw your friend there too.”

“Who? Tobey?” I responded.

“No . . . the guy, Sanford.”

I grabbed a few tissues to dry my eyes. Each answer lent itself to more questions. Not all of them for Liz. I wasn’t prepared in the slightest to hear that Jake lied to me about being out of town, and on top of it that he might be having yet another affair. I’d sensed something might have been going on between Jake and Taylor, but not this. I
thought he was attracted to her. If I needed confirmation of anything above flirtation, Liz gifted me that.

I heard Karen enter the office. She popped her head in to announce her return just as I hung up the phone. Right about the time the tears were starting to fall yet again. Karen, apparently surprised to see me so emotional, asked what happened.

“Nothing happened,” I said.

Karen seemed worried. “Then why are you crying?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry Karen, that’s not true—something did happen. I’m just finding out.”

She grabbed more tissues from the box on my desk and handed them to me. “Alex, tell me what’s going on.”

I took them and wiped my eyes, “Liz—you remember Liz?”

Karen tried to soothe me by rubbing my back. “No, not really, who is she?”

“An old friend from the hospital, she was at my wedding. You probably wouldn’t remember her.” I was talking through my sobs.

“Liz? Is that who you just hung up with? What about her?”

“Yeah well, she saw Jake and Taylor at dinner Friday.”

Karen looked confused. “They work together—that’s not a big deal.”

I pulled the tissue away from my eyes. “Karen,” I said, “think.”

Karen seemed to realize the implication. “What? I thought you said Jake was out of town?”

“I did—I thought he was, but according to her he’s
right here in town.”

Karen looked shaken, “Is she sure?”

I blew my nose, “Yes Karen she’s sure.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Why would she call and lie about something like that? I haven’t talked to her in six years.”

“Exactly,” Karen exclaimed. “Why would she call you out of the blue and tell you something like that?”

I continued to cry, “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Visibly confused, Karen said, “I’m sure it doesn’t−what are you going to do? Confront him?”

I drew in a very shaky breath. “I know what Liz said, but I would think before I accuse him of anything. I need more than her word.” I pulled the last tissue out of the box. My eyes were burning. I grabbed a mirror from my desk drawer, both eyes red and swollen. “I look a mess,” I said.

“That’s the least of your worries. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know maybe there’s something at home that will tell me where he’s staying.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like this has happened before . . . . well, it hasn’t happened
just
like this before.”

“So, you’re about to go home, and look for a clue or something.”

“Maybe,” I said, suddenly unsure of the right thing to do. “I think that’s the plan. I don’t know what else to do.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Just the thought of him being with her infuriates me.”

Karen asked, “You sure you don’t want to call your
sister to go with you?”

“No, I’ll go—maybe I can go online, check his phone records or something. I don’t know this is crazy. I’m so pissed off.”

“When is he supposed to be back? I mean, when is he supposed to
fake
being back?”

Holding back more tears, I said. “Tomorrow. His
fake
plane is supposed to land tomorrow,” I smiled mirthlessly. “I would say you have to laugh to keep from crying, but that wouldn’t exactly be accurate right now.”

Karen went to her desk to get more tissue while I grabbed my keys and purse. “I’ll be back before my next appointment gets here.”

“Okay,” she said, holding a box of tissue. “Be careful.”

“I will. It’s not like he’s there.”
Or so I think
. . .

On the drive home, fueled by my conversation with Liz, I drifted in and out daydreaming of Taylor and Jake kissing. I parked on the street. Having no recollection of how I got there to conduct the shortest investigation in history. Jake’s car was parked down the street from our house.
Why would he lie about being out of town then come back to the house? Maybe he forgot something. He would have to know I’d figure out somebody was in the house? Or, perhaps thought I was just that stupid!
The noise on the street drowned out the sound of anyone entering or leaving our house, I counted on that to be the case. Undetected by Jake, I entered the house. Unbeknownst to me, he wasn’t alone. My foot hit the sixth or seventh stair that’s when I heard it. Granted a long time ago, but I remembered what
it
sounded like. Quietly, I crept up a few more steps. Faint at first, clearer at the top definite down the hall a rhythmic purr of a woman being made love too became painfully clear. Lifting my heart
with my feet made it hard to move. I didn’t want Jake to have the luxury of deniability, not about this. I needed to see him. As painful as the journey up the steps had been, I pushed down my internal anguish. Steadfast, inching down the hall past our bedroom, engulfed in their passion. Neither heard me outside the guest room door. Blinded by tears, aching at the sight of their naked bodies lyrically intertwined, unnoticed, I turned away, backed down the hallway toward the stairs leaving as quietly as I entered. At the foot of the stairs, I contemplated all sorts of crazy, but when you’ve had as much drama as I, you become numb to it all. Another crushing scene was not going to change what I’d seen or known all along.

Knowledge is a blessing and a curse. In my car, I cried and contemplated what exactly was supposed to come next. If it was just the cheating that would be one thing, but it’s the judgmental eyes of your family and friends when the decision you make is contrary to the one they would make for you. This was not my first time at the rodeo, but it doesn’t make it any less painful or difficult to bear.

There was no way I could return to work. I called Karen and asked her to reschedule my appointment. Then considered my next move, obviously I couldn’t go back inside. Jake knew my normal pattern of behavior. I shouldn’t be home till seven o’clock. It was only a little after three. A nearby park afforded me the solitude I needed to think, cry, and contemplate what
I
wanted.

As time ticked away, I didn’t have any answers—only pain. I realized it was ridiculous to figure all this out in my car, so I decided to let the humiliation of the day pour out
of me. I didn’t want to plan anymore, I just wanted to cry and get it all out. If, and that was a big if, I confronted Jake I wanted my words soiled with anger not tears. Whatever the manner of our confrontation, life as I knew it was over. Be it not for this, I probably would have remained unhappily married. I didn’t dare allow myself the dream of living another life, one that didn’t include Jake. If I had, Jake and I would’ve been over a long time ago. I have given unhappy seven years and then some. That’s long enough. I intended to make the mental transition away from him. The rest, well, that’s just geography.

From my line of sight, just above the steering wheel, the reticent brilliance of the sun began to set. It would be nightfall soon, signifying my time to commence the drive home. I raised my seat then leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel with both hands to rest my head upon. The display of my cell phone was visible from the passenger seat. A missed call showed up on the screen, presumably from Karen.

I closed my lids, rolling my eyes inside, took in a deep breath to fill my lungs and exhaled. The release felt soothing. It helped, if only a little, to ease the pressure in my head and heart. I picked up my cell phone and contemplated for a split second returning Karen’s call.
Not yet
. I placed the phone back on the car seat where it originally lay.

I drove home, accompanied by the slideshow that played over and over inside my head. I parked directly in front of our house. I felt safe at a distance looking on from the curb. Watching the front porch, I mulled over getting
out the car or driving away, back to the peaceful mind-numbing tranquility of the park. Jake’s car wasn’t down the street anymore. My mind, once again, flashed glimpses of them in bed.

I sat hoping as time passed those reoccurring pictures wouldn’t continue to appear, but it was too soon to hope and sitting in the car wasn’t going to make my obsessive thoughts or heartache go away. I needed to go inside sometime, and there was no time like the present. I exited the car, walked up the porch stairs, opened the front door and entered.

Inside the foyer, I closed the door, clinching the knob from behind me. The house looked and smelled uninterrupted. No outward signs of the day’s betrayal. I checked the kitchen, office, and downstairs bathroom, searching for clues of unwelcomed guests. There wasn’t anything, not even a glass in the sink, which made me wonder how many times they’d been inside the house without my knowledge. Jake was getting better at this. He’d learned to pick up after himself.

I made it up the stairs to what would become an oversized closet. I surveyed the bedroom from the doorway until I’d mustered up the courage to put my head in. The room smelled of peaches from way too much air freshener.

I pulled back the comforter from the bed.
Huh—new sheets
. Well, that’s a slip-up. Surely I’d notice this. Maybe that’s my silver lining—
my freedom and sheets
. I rarely went into the guest room. Now I’d do it even less. I exited and closed the door behind me. If I had yellow caution tape I would have put that up too.

Safely seated in my room on the edge of the bed, I
contemplated the present and the past. Jake would be home tomorrow night—unless he extended his stay, wherever that is. My shoes were still on with my purse and phone in hand from when I’d entered the house. I wasn’t moving any further than my bedroom. I didn’t have the mental or physical energy to do any more than lying down. I took off everything but my underwear and laid the clothes on Jake’s side of the bed.

The next day started much differently than I’d imagined.

I awoke to the sound of a man’s snoring. This meant one of two things. Jake’s fake flight landed early or a burglar was in my bed stealing a nap. The alarm clock on the nightstand was positioned away from immediate view so I had no idea of the time. Without disturbing the person next to me, I cracked open my eyes to see eleven a.m. displayed in red. I’ve never slept this late, time to figure out if I should be scared or angry. My body remained still. Moving only my head, I turned to face the invader.
If only I could be so lucky
. It’s Jake and my arousal awakened him. He faced me eyes wide open. “Good morning,” he said. “I’m surprised you’re not at work.”