My Dear Stranger (37 page)

 
“Yes it is!  You know it is, Alexander.  Do you really think I believe a condom broke?  Do you really think I believe it was an accident?  Well, I don't.  I found the other condoms in your jeans that weekend, and amazingly, they all had a hole right through the middle of them.  I saw them.  When you were in the shower after the first weekend we had sex, I was tidying up your clothes and the row of condoms fell out of the sheets and I actually saw a pinprick hole.  I
saw
it.  So I held up the row of attached condoms, and I couldn't believe it.  They all had a hole in the center!  I saw it!  I know what you did.  I've always known what you did!”  

 
“Sadie... I-”  

 
“You have nothing to say, Alexander.  I know you're probably embarrassed with Cheryl here, but that's not MY problem!  I didn't trap you. 
You
trapped me!”  

 
“Sadie... Maybe you would like to speak with Alex alone.  I could step out if-”  

 
“No.  Please stay, Cheryl.  I realize this is probably very embarrassing for Alex, and maybe even really uncomfortable for you, and I'm sure this is super tacky seeing as we just spoke really, but I need you to stay to hear this, because I'm not crazy, and I have things to say and I want you to hear them. Okay?”
  ”Um, I think maybe-”
  “Tell her, Alexander!  Tell her you're not embarrassed and she can stay!  Tell her!” I scream.
  “Um, you can stay Cheryl.  If Sadie wants you here, you can stay,” Alexander mumbles looking down at his hands.
  “Do you want me to tell you what's bothering me?  Should I finally talk, Alexander?”
  “Could you stop calling me
Alexander
like I'm in trouble or something?  You're not my mother, Sadie, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop speaking to me like you are.  I'm Alex.  I'm your husband, ALEX.”
  “Okay,
ALEX.
  Let me say this- I forgive you for trapping me.  I forgive you for getting me pregnant when I wasn't ready.  I forgive you for letting your family and friends think I got pregnant on purpose.  And I forgive you for making me have Jamie.”

 
“I didn’t trap you!  I didn’t plan the pregnancy at-”

 
“Then how did you know about the syrup?  How did you know it would make me feel better?  How did you know about the calories and the fat and the vitamins for women?!” I scream, knowing I’ve got him.

 
“I
didn’t
know, but I suspected because you were talking in your sleep about another baby.  You were moaning you didn’t want another baby, and you were so moody and freaked out that week, so I looked up signs for early pregnancy and that’s when I found that recipe!  That’s how I knew!  That’s the
only
reason I knew...” Alex says sadly.

 
“I know you’re lying, and you never lie.  So you probably thought getting me pregnant was the best thing for me or something.  You probably thought I would be better if we were together forever or something romantic like that.  And I can almost understand why you did it.  I couldn’t commit or decide anything for myself back then.  I couldn’t make a single decision about my life- so you made the decision for me.”

 
“Sadie…” Alex moans, and I feel heartbroken.

  Breathing deeply, I hate this tension between us.  I hate anything sad between Alex and I.

  “I forgive you for making me have Jamie.”
  “You love Jamie.”
  “I know I do!  That's why I forgive you!  You're lucky I fell in love with him the second I met him.  You're really lucky I loved him the second he was placed on my chest because I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't loved him.”
  “What do you mean?” Alex asks as he leans in closer to me and touches my hand.
  “You know EXACTLY what I mean.”
  “I don't.”
  “You do.  I know you do.”
  And now we're at an impasse.  I know he knows.  And he knows I know he knows.  We each know the reality we pretend we don't know, but we know.  We know, but neither of us wants to say it.
  “What do you mean, Sadie?” Cheryl asks quietly beside me.  Staring at Alex I forgot Cheryl was even here.  Staring at Alex I see him sitting there and I feel so sad for him.  He loves me so much more than I love him.  We are not balanced with our love and we both know it.  I think Alex must have always known it.
  “I mean I probably would have left Jamie with Alex and took off.  I probably would have started down my dark path again.  I probably would have left to fall apart or something.  Right, Alex?”
  “But you did love him and you stayed and you're perfect now.  You're a wonderful wife and mother and you own your own flower shop, and we made it.”
  “Yes we did.  We made it Alexander.”
  “Sadie?  Would you please come inside with me?  It's freezing out here and you're very cold.”
  “I'm not ready yet,” I mumble as I light another smoke slowly.  I think I'm waiting for him to object, but he doesn't.  Alexander is smarter than that.  He ignores me smoking because of the larger picture we're seeing- I think he knows I know.
  “Cheryl, I think you should leave now.  Alexander and I have a few things to discuss, privately, and I think we should be alone now.  I believe Alexander won’t hurt me, so I don't need you here anymore.  Alexander and I need to be alone now, and I really don't want you to think we're bad people, because we're not.  Well, not really.  Right, honey?”
  “We're not bad people at all.”
  “Why did you think Alex would hurt you,” Cheryl whispers in my ear.
  “I don't.  Sometimes I expect the worst, but Alex isn't the worst.”
  “I don't know what you mean,” Alex looks at me and begs.
  “Cheryl?  Do you think you could just keep all this between us?  I know this is strange, and I'm strange, and this situation is strange, but could you please keep it between us.  I don't want the neighborhood to know I'm strange.  Oh, god, I really don't want the M's to know from across the street.  She'd love it if I wasn’t perfect.”
  “I won't tell anyone anything, Sadie.  I promise.  Especially the M's because I find them really annoying,” she grins.
  “Me too,” I smile back.
  “Why don't you and Alex talk and maybe later, or soon, I'll come over for coffee?”
  “That would be lovely.  Thank you Cheryl,” I nod.  And I mean it.
  As she rises, she readjusts the blanket over my shoulders, covering most of me in its warmth.  Smiling one last time, Cheryl makes her way out my side garage door without even a quick glance at Alexander.  Looking, I guess I was wrong.  They don't seem like they're having an affair at all, and I was probably a little offensive assuming they were.
  “I'm sorry for all this,” I whisper as Alex sits watching me.
  “What is it, baby?” He whispers in return while taking my hand.
 

CHAPTER 3
2

 
 
As soon as Cheryl walks out the side door of our garage, I really look at Alexander for the first time in ages, and sadly, he looks confused and tired.  He looks kind of like I feel; worn out and tired and confused by life.
  “When's the last time you ate, Sadie?”
  “Do you remember me singing, Alex?”
  “Sadie.  When did you eat last?  Friday night?”
  “I don't know.  I think so.  Why?”
  “Because you're not taking care of yourself.  You don't look very well, Sade.  Can I make you something to eat?”
  “Okay.  Soon.  Thank you.  I had coffee though yesterday.  No, Sunday.  No, Saturday,” I admit confused.  I'm sure it's Monday.  “Do you remember me singing, Alex?”
  “I do.  I remember in high school you sang Somebody by Depeche Mode, and everyone in the auditorium was silent while you sang.  You sounded beautiful.  I may have even fallen a little in love with you then like everyone else did,” he smiles.
  I remember that day.  I felt beautiful and amazing and whole that day.  I couldn't believe I worked up the nerve to sing for the talent show, but I did.  And I was so good that day.  Everyone was surprised by my voice, even me, I remember.  It was just one of those rare days someone has where absolutely everything works out; from their clothes, to their hair, to the sound of their voice.  Everything was perfect for me that day.  I loved that day.
  “Do you remember me ever dancing?”
  “Not really.  I remember once at a bush party you and a few girlfriends dancing to something but I was with my group of friends drinking, so I didn’t pay much attention.  Sorry.”
   “It’s okay.  But I remember, Alex.  I always sang and danced when I was a teenager.  I think I was happy before I was sixteen, and maybe even a little after that, but then my life started changing.  Do you know why I stopped being happy?  Do you know why I hate music and noise?”
  “No,” he breathes into me.
  “Because He always had music playing when we were together.  And then He turned it off when He left.”
  “Who?” He questions.
  “You know who,” I call his bluff.
  “I don't know.  Why don't you tell me, Sadie,” Alex says calling my bluff in return.
 
  Staring at Alex, I take out another cigarette.  With shaking hands, I try to light it but my thumb and fingers are so numb I can't.  But amazingly, Alex takes the lighter from me slowly and sparks the flint.  Holding out the lighter to me, I'm shocked he would, so grinning, I ask why without asking, as I inhale.
  “It's fine, Sadie.  If smoking in the freezing garage makes you talk to me, I'll take it,” he responds deadpan.
  Looking at Alex sitting in front of me I wish I could just hug him.  I don't like this distance between us and I don't like the feeling of being alone anymore.  I wasted too many years alone waiting for something more.
  “I received a letter on Wednesday,” I say as Alexander stiffens in front of me.
  Recovering quickly though, he asks, “From who?”
  “My old friend Patrick.  My awesomely gay former friend Patrick.  Do you know him?” I ask watching him.  But Alex answers without answering- his silence is answer enough for me.  “How did you know him?”  But when there is more silence, I continue.  “It doesn't matter anymore.  Just tell me how you know Patrick.  Please?”
  But he still can't speak.
  “I grabbed the mail on Wednesday and there was a Manila envelope with a book in it and a letter from Patrick.  Would you like to hear it?”
  And he nods.  Not looking at me, he actually looks down at his hands and nods.  He looks guilty as hell about something, and I want to know so badly what's going on that I'm shaking with the need to know.
  “Should I read it?” 
  “If you want to, Sadie.  Go ahead,” Alexander mumbles, still looking down at his hands.
 

 
Moving to the side of the garage, I shimmy on my butt with the blanket and lift my old hatbox to remove the letter and book.  Holding the book feels like everything dark in my life.  Holding the book feels like saying goodbye and staring at only darkness as you jump into the sea.  Holding the book feels like a goodbye for us and I’m scared.
  “Can I read it to you?”
  “Please...” Alex whispers, finally raising his head to look at me.  Staring back at his lovely blue eyes, I feel a dark goodbye all around us.
  “Why didn't you tell me?” I beg.
  “Please just read his letter,” Alex says with stiff shoulders and a sad nod. 
 

 
Leaning against the garage wall, wrapped as best as I can in my warm blanket, I look at Alex one last time and begin reading the letter from Patrick with a fear I can't even hide.  The fear is in my voice, and it's in my shaking body.
  This is it, I think.
Dear Sadie
I hope this finds you well.  I want you to know I kept watch on you until very recently when I was sure you had finally found your way to happiness.
I love you still, and I don't blame you for ending our friendship when you found my thesis.  I was actually proud of you for doing that, because back then I was sure I could've convinced you to forget all about it, should you ever find out at the time.  I thought you were too weak and I was too fabulous then, for you to push me away.  But again, you surprised me with your response.  When you almost destroyed my University career and subsequent studies I was totally pissed, but quite proud of the nasty little bitch inside you, too.  You surprised me with that.  But when you moved and never saw me again I can admit I was truly heartbroken then.  You were very important to me, and I loved you very much, even though I'm sure you find that hard to believe.  I know you won't believe me but I never did anything to intentionally hurt you.  Every part of our friendship was true- my only wrongdoing was documenting it without your knowledge and using it to further my studies.  Admittedly, that was a shitty thing to do.  So for that I'm very sorry.  But I'm not sorry for anything else we experienced together.  I honestly loved you and I loved our relationship for those few years I had it.  And I wish you would believe that, because it’s true.
  I want you to know that I'm publishing my book in a few days, maybe already by the time you receive this letter.  So I'm extending you the courtesy of a (signed) copy first, so you know what to expect.  I did amend it slightly from the original draft you read years ago, and I added a more thorough psychological synopsis of the events and your reactions to them, but fundamentally it is the same.  I even included the night we slept together to bring to my book the full honesty of the story.