Not To Us (40 page)

Infidelity wreaks damage long after it ends.
I frown at the irony of this thought and turn away from all of them and call out a final goodbye.

Michael makes a point of avoiding our upcoming discussion and heads in the direction of the garage with some excuse about getting something in his car. I shrug indifferently and just watch him go.

Neither one of us seems willing to get into a heated discussion tonight. We should be happy and excited to have the twins here with us; and yet, distrust seeps in between us again.

I move through the house at a listless pace popping a couple of pain pills as I go. Sad, all at once.

≈≈

Within fifteen minutes of perusing our home office, I’ve added up our mounting debt and all outstanding medical bills. It isn’t just my multiple surgeries. It’s the chemotherapy, the various medications, and the never ending doctor visits.

It appears that my team has given us a substantial discount on everything, but bodacious tah tahs and saving my life and trying to save Elaina’s has been expensive.

The hospital has no forgiveness for money owed, even when the patients die, the numbers add up quickly to over three hundred thousand dollars. It looks like insurance will cover most of it, but there’s some confusion in what Robert’s insurance is paying for when we were married and what Michael’s will cover, since his insurance company considers my condition pre-existing, when he put me on his medical plan.

It appears that my little editor’s job with its insurance coverage may cover more of the costs than Michael’s. I smile bitterly to myself. My little editor’s job has never really resonated with anyone, never with Bobby and not even Michael.

All said and done, we’ll still be paying out almost seventy-five thousand dollars. My mind flashes to the new white SUV and the sailboat. I hate being in debt. Bobby always understood this; Michael, obviously, doesn’t.

≈≈

In the family room, I stare at their silver urns on the mantel, then, carry one under each arm even though my chest aches with pain. Sitting in the darkened living room, I have this whispered conversation with both of them, as if they’re still with us.

I tell Nick and Elaina about the twins; how we struggled to come up with names, but Beau and Ava seem so right. I talk about Mathew and Emily and confess my worries about their possible struggle with all the changes that’s been brought in our lives without them. “It’s hard,” I say to the answering stillness. “We miss you both so much. I’m just glad you’re together. It makes me happy to know that you two are together. It makes it bearable.” I start to cry.

I sense Michael. When I open my eyes, he’s coming to kneel in front of me. He lays his head down in my lap. I stroke his golden head. After a few minutes, he takes the urns from me and sets them down on the coffee table. Then, he comes to sit beside me and holds my hand.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I know about the loan from Robert,” I say in a low voice.

He sighs heavily. “I didn’t…want to worry you.”

“I know. But, you should have told me. We need to be a partnership. I took care of all the financial stuff with Robert and it’s my fault for not paying any attention to it, what with Nick and Elaina. Then with you and Carrie and my leaving, well, everything got messed up. I’m sorry that you had to carry the financial burden for all of this by yourself.”

“It’s okay. You’ve had everything else to deal with.”

“It’s not okay.” I turn to him and take his face in my hands. “Michael, we have to work on things together. We have to talk about things. You can’t go out and buy a sailboat with Robert or buy a new car without telling me. We have to work together, discuss these things.”

“What? I have to ask your permission?”

“It’s not like that. It’s just we can’t afford a new car, right now. We have debt.
Tons
of it.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll do more surgery, take on more patients.”

“Michael.” I grab his arm. “That’s not the answer. We have to live within our means. Plan for things. We have two more children, more expenses. We just have to work together and plan it out.” I hesitate by the look of determination in his eyes. “I’ll talk to Bobby.”

“Why would you involve
him
? This is our business. I can provide for you.”

“Michael. This is a partnership.
Us
.
Together
.” I’m just about to tell him about selling the old house, knowing this will solve most of our financial issues when he gets up abruptly.

“This is about
Carrie
.” He gets this wounded look and paces the floor. “I know you don’t trust me. I saw the look you gave us when she said goodbye to me. I know I have to earn your trust back. I
know
.”

“That’s not it.” Though what he’s saying starts to resonate with me. Distrust of him returns full force, especially since he’s the one bringing up Carrie.

“Yes it is.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“We
need
to have this conversation. When would you like to have it? When Mathew and Emily are here? You feel it; don’t you? It’s still as if it could all fall apart tomorrow. You think I don’t wonder if Court Chandler will just show up one day and take you away from all of this. You think I
trust
you, Ellen Kay? Think again!” Michael moves away from me to the far end of the room.

“Michael, why would you bring up Court Chandler? Why now?”

“Because he haunts me. Every day. Every day, I wonder if this is the day that he’ll come back into your life and take you away. He loves you. I
know
that. I can’t do anything about it because, on some insane level, I understand it. I love you, too.”

“It’s crazy to love me? Is that it? I don’t even
think
about Court Chandler.” My face betrays me with a sudden flush even as I say this. Michael winces.

“Don’t lie to me, Ellen Kay. Don’t lie!” I hear his heavy breathing and feel the panic rise in me with his anger. “So, you don’t answer his texts?” He grasps my forearms, compelling me to tell him.

“Noooooo.” Just my tone gives me away. I pull away from his grasp, even as it causes me pain with the sudden movement.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says.

I lash out, feeling exposed by his accusations, assailed by the flashback of him and Carrie
—
the action that started all of this. “You broke us, Michael. Damn you.”

“Yeah, damn me. It always comes back to me and what I did. I’ve told you, I’m sorry, a thousand times. And, I am. But, Ellie, are
you
?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying. That’s the thing, Ellen Kay, I’m
sorry
for what I’ve done, but
you
? You would go back to him in a heartbeat if he asked.”

“That’s not true.” The tears steam down my face. “It’s not true, Michael.” But, even as I say this, it’s clear that neither one of us believes it. We turn away from each other. “I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.”

“Fine. There’s nothing left to say anyway.” The bitterness in Michael’s tone is like a knife twisting deep inside my very soul. It feels as if he’s cut me loose. I feel adrift and alone as I walk away from him.

Wearily, I climb the stairs leaving Michael to close down the house. I get ready for bed, slipping on an old grey t-shirt and check on my sleeping babies, relieved that they’ll be asleep for a few more hours. I look at our master bed and contemplate if I should sleep there or sleep in one of the kids’ rooms down the hall.

I keep making the same mistakes. I just keep making them. I check my cell phone and see the number three by the text message symbol.

They’ll be from Court. He’s been texting me on a regular basis. For the most part, I’ve ignored them, but now I slide my thumb over the symbol.

E, congrats on the twins. C

I know ur busy. I was just TOY.

E, I need to talk to u. When can we meet? C

How does the man know about the twins already?
Lisa.

Dr. Lisa Chatham confuses me. She’s supportive of my relationship with Michael and then there is this other part where she champions Court Chandler in this innocent-third-party-sharing-information-about-Ellie kind of way.

“About what; exactly?”
I text to Court now.

“Ur there?”
He texts back.

“
For a min.”

“I need to talk to u.”

“So you said. About what; exactly?”
I text back.

“Us.”

His answer causes my heart to pound. My hand shakes as I put the cell down on the night stand. After a minute, I pick it back up again.

“Where? When?”

“Fri. 10 am. BI Ferry. pk me up.”

“Ok. But, untenable.”
I write back.

“But real enough.”
He texts back to me.

I should text back and cancel this whole thing, but I don’t. No. I lock my cell phone and put it on the charger and guiltily climb into bed and turn out the light.

A few minutes later, Michael comes in and slides into the covers beside me. I pretend to be asleep, even when he kisses me good-night. I shift and turn away from him, so he can’t sense my pounding heart, which beats with equal measures of excitement and guilt at making plans to meet Court.

What am I doing? Why am I doing it?

≈ ≈ ≈