THE AFFAIR (7 page)

“They don’t have the kind of money we have.”

I knew what Larry was doing. He was trying to play on my sympathies. He was working me, to get me to agree to do what he wanted. If his burst of anger didn’t work, then he was going to try to guilt me into it.

Why not? It had worked for twenty-six years. I never wanted to make waves. I was forever treading lightly. I always gave in. But for some reason, not tonight. Maybe not ever again.

I stared at him hard before asking, “Larry, did either Erica or Roy ever once clean up the mess their kids made of our home? No, I’m serious. I don’t want them here.”

His smile that I loved was gone now. He was wearing his stern look as though I were one of the witnesses he was trying to intimidate.

“This isn’t the way for you to have a good relationship with the kids. They need us. They need our help and the least we can do is be there for them.”

“No, the least we can do is nothing.” I took a sip of my wine, feeling unnerved now. I felt as if I were walking on a dozen eggshells, still trying to prevent a crack. Yet I felt a strength surging through my veins I hadn’t felt in years. I knew I wasn’t backing down. Something in Larry’s eyes told me he knew it too.

“What am I going to tell them?”

“Tell them the truth.”

“You want me to tell Erica that her mother doesn’t want to help her, that she doesn’t want the kids in our home because she doesn’t love them? Would you like me to tell her that you don’t love her either? Mick, she needs you. This is crazy.”

“Tell her whatever you want.” His jaw went slack. This was not the wife he knew. “Let me know when you plan to leave,” I said. “I think I’ll make plans to do something special for myself while you’re gone.” Then I dug into my food with gusto. I wanted to laugh at my husband sitting there in disbelief.

I ate every bite on my plate, then ordered dessert and coffee. The tight band that had existed around my head and my heart was gone. I felt free and by God, it felt good. I was being reborn into the Michelle I wanted to be.

Chapter Four

I listened to the quiet as Larry got ready for bed. We had barely spoken since leaving the restaurant. Erica, our eldest, was now twenty-three and still daddy’s little girl. At seventeen, she’d gotten pregnant and broken her father’s heart.

As for me, it was the beginning of my countdown. I was glad when Erica married Roy and moved to Arizona. With only four more to get out of the house, I felt there was now an end in sight to my life sentence of motherhood.

Before I knew it, all the kids were gone. If only they would actually stay away. It seemed that every other week one or the other of them was coming to visit. Then they started having babies and began bringing them by, leaving them first for hours, then for days.

Larry cooed over the babies then went off to work. I was always the unasked, designated caregiver. Nevertheless, I had done it. Up to now, I had been forced against my will to repeat the caregiving part of my life.

I’d talked to Larry a dozen times about saying no to the kid’s frequent visits and their dropping off their children, but each time he’d laughed off my words with kisses, telling me that I was being a grouch, that he knew I loved having them there. Well, I didn’t.

I was thrilled when Shannon, our youngest, left home for college. Within a year she was shacking up with her boyfriend. She thought we didn’t know. We went along with the deception because our agreement with Shannon was that we’d totally cover her college and living expenses, as long as she remained on her own. No live-in boyfriend.

When we found out, neither Larry nor I wanted to confront Shannon. She was getting good grades, and we wanted her to have an education.

“Are you coming to bed?”

Larry had reappeared in the door of the family room. I was not following my usual modus operandi. By now I was usually in our bed rubbing his back, not wanting to feel the silence building between us.

Larry’s silence would generally break down all my defenses. He’d never shout, just turn away until I would turn to him, touching him, caressing him, making love with him. And somewhere between my first touch and his release I would utter my acquiescence to whatever problem had come between us.

I thought of the books Chance had given me. I didn’t want to go to bed and be ignored until I came around. I wanted to remain where I was, within myself, knowing I didn’t have to give up two weeks’ vacation time to Erica, the spoiled daughter that believed it her due. She was not the monster of my making; she was Larry’s.

For the last several years we’d gotten into the habit of making love on Wednesday and Saturday. It didn’t matter what was happening, or what plans had been made. Wednesday and Saturday were our high holy days, not to be messed with.

“I’m not in the mood.”

If Larry had glared at me, I probably would have felt better, more justified. But as it was, he just stood staring at me, as if he no longer knew who I was.

“Fine. Goodnight.”

He kissed the top of my head, his lips closed and cold. This was only the second time in our marriage that I’d stood up to Larry for what I really wanted. The first time had been when I was pregnant with Shannon.

Larry’s anger over finding my secret supply of birth control pills had led to that particular pregnancy. I’d cried while trying to explain to him that I didn’t want any more children.

I had not considered my actions a betrayal but he had. So for weeks I had turned to him in bed each night and initiated lovemaking without the benefit of any protection other than praying not to become pregnant. It didn’t work.

When I found myself about to become a mother for the fifth time, I took a step even I didn’t believe I was capable of. I went to an abortion/Planned Parenthood clinic, paid my money and three days later, I sat there crying, waiting my turn.

I was alone and afraid. Afraid of burning in hell and afraid of ending my marriage if Larry found out. I alternated between being sorry and making plans for my life alone. A part of me welcomed my husband’s anger. I would be free.

Somehow Larry had intercepted a call from the clinic reminding me of the time and came before I was taken in. It surprised me that he wasn’t angry, merely sad. He pleaded with me not to abort the baby. In exchange he talked with the doctor, took my appointment and had a vasectomy on the spot.

He never wanted to talk about what had almost happened. The doctor convinced him that I could still be in the midst of post partum depression from my last pregnancy. No one listened to me. No one believed that was not the case.

For once, I had taken matters into my own hands. My defeat, I had another baby. My minor victory, I would have no more.

Larry walked toward the stairs to go to our bedroom alone and I opened up the book,
Is This Your Only Life
? by William Davis Jr.

Four hours later I was still reading, engrossed in the concept of past lives. Even without regression therapy I believed. This surely couldn’t be the life I was destined for.

I wanted to find my life. I wanted to feel what I’d felt in the arms of a stranger and it had nothing to do with sex.

I didn’t want to go to bed. I didn’t want to give in and I didn’t want to feel my husband’s silence. I couldn’t remember a time that we hadn’t slept in the same bed when we were home. We did everything in that bed, our reading, our fighting, the little that we did, and our making up.

Now we were in different rooms and for the first time I knew we were not on the same path. I had just taken a major step away from Larry and from our life.

A small part of me wanted to turn back, to beg his forgiveness, to be what he thought I was, but after reading that book I could no longer pretend that marriage to Larry was my destiny.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, honey, I’m sure.”

“It’s not too late for you to change your mind and come with me. You know Erica’s pretty peeved. She mentioned the fact that you rarely visit and she thinks you don’t want them to come here.”

We were standing in the airport. It had taken nearly a month for Larry to believe that I was actually not going to be the one going. He was the one taking two weeks vacation and leaving for Arizona to care for two of our grandchildren.

He was making a last ditch effort to change my mind and if he couldn’t do that, he was bound and determined that I would be miserable while he was gone. He imagined I would be consumed with guilt. He was wrong.

“Honey, believe me I do hope you have a wonderful time with the kids.” I looked at him long and hard. “And please don’t make any excuses for my not coming. Maybe for once you could tell them that their children are destructive and unruly and until they’re older and have been taught how to behave, I would prefer they remain in Arizona.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Will you go see Dr. Payne while I’m gone and have a physical?”

I couldn’t help smiling at him. I had betrayed my husband for the second time by not playing my part. He was confused. He had every right to be.

“I’m not sick.”

“Will you do it for me?” he asked.

This was a small thing he was asking. I almost said yes to his request. But this new me that had been evolving for the past two months wouldn’t allow it. I no longer wanted to do anything, no matter how small, just because it would make someone else happy. I smiled at my husband but didn’t answer.

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Oh, there’s a lecture I want to attend.” I left out that it was on past lives. “And I might go to the movies, or out to dinner. Who knows? I have two weeks. I think I’m going to look for something very important that I lost.”

“I still do.” He reached for me then stopped himself. “But you’re not acting like yourself. You’re beginning to scare me. I can’t deal with the paranormal and I’ve noticed all the books you’ve been reading lately are about it.”

“What do you want me to do, Larry? My reading isn’t affecting your life. I still cook and clean for you. I’m there whenever you turn to me. What have I taken from you or from our marriage?” I noticed the hurt look that came into his eyes.

“We’ve always shared and this one time we can’t.” His voice was muffled. I was aware that he was uncomfortable talking about anything that couldn’t be proven.

I was undaunted by his feelings, and elected instead to focus on his words. The fact that he wanted to share gave me hope. So I said to him, “We can share it. We can find out about it together, we can make the journey together.” I smiled, feeling maybe this was the way things were meant to be. Perhaps Larry and I would explore this new avenue of interest.

“I’ve never given you an ultimatum, but this is one time I must put my foot down. When I return home, I want this nonsense out of our home and out of your head.”

I laughed out loud. “You want to regulate my thoughts? I only read when you’re not around, or when you’ve fallen asleep.”

“I know that, but I don’t like waking and finding you not there. I want you to stay in bed with me, where you belong. I need you there. So whatever you have to do to rid our lives of this invasion, you have two weeks to do it. And that includes your dreams. I want you to go to a doctor, get something for them. I want them to stop. I know they have something to do with all of this nonsense.”

I couldn’t believe my husband’s gall. I wanted to strike out at him, hurt him for his remarks and I knew just how to do it. If he thought it was an affair I was after, maybe I’d give him something to worry about. And since he was the one who’d brought it up, I couldn’t help wondering if he was giving me his tacit approval to have an affair. It sure as hell sounded like it. It sounded to me as if he was giving me two weeks to do whatever I wanted, as long as I was done with it when he returned.

I looked away from him for a moment in disbelief. Surely I was hearing him wrong. “Larry, is that why you asked if I’m planning on having an affair? Did I hear you right? Are you giving me your approval? If so, why do you think two weeks will be long enough?”