Whatever It Takes (6 page)

“Do anything to help me,” he said, rising off the couch and then groaning.  He stretched his arms above his head and his t-shirt lifted just enough for me see the light brown trail of hair that led below the waist of his shorts.  I thought of how many times I ran my tongue down that trail and how he’d hiss through his teeth when I did it.  Now I was imagining some faceless woman doing the same to him.  Did he hiss for her, too? 

I ignored his request and entered the kitchen.  After dumping the spoiled juice down the sink I grabbed a spoon from the drawer and placed it in the freezer like I said I would. 

“Do you want coffee?” 

“Emma, stop being nice to me,” Gavin told me.  “The nicer you are, the worse I feel.  I think I preferred it when you were slapping me last night.”

I looked up from the container of Folgers I was scooping into the coffee filter.  “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“Don’t be.”  He moved to grab two coffee mugs from the cupboard above my head.  “I deserved it.”

“You did,” I agreed, “but I’m still sorry I hit you.”

I went to retrieve the newspaper from the front porch and met Gavin on the back patio.  This was our Sunday morning ritual and I guess we were starting it just as any other .  We’d have several cups of coffee out here while perusing through the paper; him reading the financial section of course and me reading local news and entertainment. When we’d finish I’d do the crossword puzzle with his help and then we’d decide on what else we’d like to do that day.  Using the time on Sunday to relax was something else Gavin and I had discovered we’d had in common when we first met.  We’d both been raised to believe Sunday was a day of rest and about doing things that made you happy.  We’d go to the movies, or out on our boat, or just stay in and lounge around watching television or reading.  Once in awhile, we’d go to mass. 

Gavin had been baptized Catholic and every now and then he’d feel like going to church, more since his mother passed away last year.  I had been raised to believe in God but wasn’t brought up in any specific denomination, so I had no problem attending mass when Gavin wanted to.  I actually enjoyed going.  It was quiet and calming and I took comfort in the fact that there were no surprises in church.  Everything, with the exception of the priest’s sermon before communion, was the same every Sunday.

I sat with my coffee, looking through the black and white pages, but Gavin ignored the paper, just sipping his drink and staring out at the pool.  To be honest, I wasn’t really reading the paper.  I couldn’t concentrate enough on the words.  Instead my mind wandered to our problem at hand and what exactly had occurred in Denver last month.

First, I imagined him again with a faceless woman he just happened to meet in the hotel bar.  Did he buy her drinks?  Did she flirt shamelessly with him even though he wore a silver band around his left ring finger?  Maybe he took it off before she noticed and slipped it into his pocket.  Maybe it fell out of his pocket and he lost it and I’d just never noticed.  I quickly stole a glance at his left hand.  No, he didn’t lose his ring.  It was still there, snug around his third finger. 

Back in my imagination, the woman leaned over to whisper in my husband’s ear that she’d love for him to go up to her room with her.  The Gavin in my head hesitated first but then dropped money on the bar and followed her. 

I pictured them slightly drunk and tumbling in the hall of the hotel until they reached her room.  Once inside they fumbled with clothing and she pulled out a condom.  Wait, had he even used a condom?  Please, dear God, tell me they used a condom. 

And then I pictured them having sex, my husband and the faceless woman.  Was he on top?  Was she?  Did she scream his name when she came, like I did?  Did he moan hers when he did?  Her name.  What was her name?  Something slutty, I was sure, like Kimber or Candy.  Then I realized my version of this had him with a stranger.  She could very well be someone I know. 

Was it his secretary?  She was older than I was but attractive enough with dark hair and dark skin.  She was married but that obviously wouldn’t have mattered to Gavin.  There was another girl that also worked with him.  Jennifer or Jessica or something like that.  She was young and fairly attractive with short blonde hair and a boyish figure.

What if it wasn’t someone from work, but someone from our circle of friends?  Was it possible that he planned something with someone we knew from around here and she flew out to Denver with him?  Was this whole thing premeditated?  Could he have screwed around with someone I considered a friend?

My head was spinning and finally when I’d had enough I shoved the paper away from me and grunted loudly in frustration.  Gavin jumped next to me, startled by my sudden outburst.

“Okay,” I said.  “It’s time for you to talk.  You’ve got to tell me what happened before I go insane.”

Gavin folded his hands on the table in front of him and studied them.  After a beat, he nodded.

“Before you start though I need to be really clear on a few things.”  I was scared to death but my voice sounded sure and steady and I was proud of myself.  “One, you better be honest with me right now, or so help me Gavin, if I find out anything you tell me is a lie I will leave this house and the next time you’ll see me is when we’re signing our divorce papers.”

“I understand,” he replied.

“And two,” I continued, “no matter what questions I have for you when you’re done, you answer them.  I don’t care how hard it will be for you to tell me or how much you want to protect me from the details.  If I want to know what her fucking cunt tasted like, you better damn well tell me.”

Gavin shuddered as he took in a deep breath but he agreed to my second demand as well.

Taking one more sip of my coffee, I leaned back in my chair and said, “Now talk.”

Gavin took one more deep breath before he started.

“First off, you have to know that it wasn’t planned, Emma.  I did not go to Denver with the intention of having an affair.  And nothing happened prior to it and nothing has happened since.  I swear.”

I nodded.  “Who was it?”

My husband took another deep breath.  I steadied myself.

“It was Lisa.”

The ice returned to my veins and the nausea hit me once again.  His ex-finance.  That’s who he slept with.  I did not see that coming.  As far as I knew, he hadn’t seen her since that night at the art gallery when I’d run out on him after he left me to talk to her.  He’d hear things about her over the years from mutual acquaintances and I’d seen a marriage announcement in the paper not long before we were married, but that was the extent of our knowledge of her.  At least I thought it was.  Now the faceless woman wasn’t faceless anymore and I pictured her, with her raven black haired head thrown back in passion as Gavin fucked her on a hotel bed. 

My hands gripped the sides of my chair, my body screaming at me to run as fast as I could away from him and our house with our beautiful furniture and sparkling new pool. 

Fight it,
I told myself. 
Don’t be a coward.  Face this.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I finally said after my internal struggle subsided.  “Lisa?”

He only nodded.

“Did you know she was going to be there?”

“No.  My firm went to Denver to pitch the money marketing and retirement plan for employees at the corporate level of Tricore.  Lisa works for a firm competing for their business.  She was there.”

“How ironic,” I said sardonically.

“Anyhow, we ran into each other the second night I was there.  She asked me to get dinner with her and I didn’t see the harm in that.  She was married, I was married.  It was just two old friends getting together to catch up.

“We went to the bar in the hotel and made small talk at first.  Just catching up on what we’d been up to over the years.  Then she asked me about our marriage and I told her how fantastic it was.  How I was so in love with you and how we had this amazing house we’d just finished remodeling and that we were thinking about having kids soon.  She started to cry.”

Gavin paused for a minute and took another sip of his coffee.  I chewed on the inside of my cheek and wished I had a cigarette.  My nervous hands started shredding bits of newspaper and twisting them into tiny balls.

“She told me how she was completely miserable in her marriage.  She and her husband barely spoke anymore and they were both always working.  Then she moved to sit beside me and she grabbed my hand.  She told me that breaking up with me was the biggest mistake of her life and that she dreamed about us getting back together for years.  Remembering all the pain she caused me when she broke it off, I have to admit, hearing that gave me a little satisfaction.  It felt good to hear her say she regretted leaving me.  Back when it happened it seemed to me that it had been so easy for her to do it.  Then when I found out she had been seeing someone else before it even ended, well that was the twist of the knife in my back.  Even though I don’t care for her now, it was gratifying, seeing her so miserable.”

“So that was it?” I asked, eyeing him with contempt.  “She cried to you about sorry she was about breaking your heart all those years ago and you jumped back into bed with her?”

“No!  When she told me all of this I pushed her away at first.  I told her that I was sorry her marriage wasn’t working but that I loved you.  She ignored me and kept pushing and pushing and then I had this ridiculous notion.  I wanted to really hurt her like she had hurt me.  I thought I’d lead her on and let her think she had a chance with me again and then at the last minute, reject her.  I know it was juvenile but a part of me never got over what she did and I wanted my revenge.”

“So then what?” I prompted when it didn’t appear that he was going to continue.  We were about to get to the worst part of it but I wasn’t going to spare him from telling me exactly what happened.  Even if I really didn’t want to hear it.

“She kissed me.  She kissed me and I didn’t push her away.  Then she asked me to go back up to her room with her.  I swear to God Emma, I was going to follow her to her room and then tell her goodbye and that I loved you and I had no interest in her whatsoever.  But then I don’t know what happened.  We got to her door and she attacked me.  She pulled me into the room and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so angry at her and I felt like if I.... fucked her, I would hurt her just as badly as she had hurt me.  It didn’t last long.  When it was over I told her that it was a huge fucking mistake and that I would never see her again.  She tried to get me to stay with her but I got dressed and left.  That was it.  I went back to my room and came home to you the next morning.”

I sat in my chair and let all of what he had just told me sink in until I felt like my insides were going to explode.  I stood up and walked over to the edge of the pool.  Gavin stayed quiet while I stared at my reflection in the water.  My image reminded me of one of the paintings at that gallery so long ago, blurry and distorted.  Exactly how my future looked right now.  

“Have you spoken to her since then?” I asked when I was finally able to speak again.  “I want the truth, Gavin.”

“Yes.”

“When?” I demanded.

“The following week she called me at work.”

“She beg you to come back to her?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I wanted nothing to do with her and to leave me alone.”

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“No.”

“Has she tried contacting you again?”

“Yes.  She’s left a few messages at the office.  I haven’t returned the calls.”

“When was the last time she left a message?”

“Friday.”

“Two days ago?  This past Friday?”

“Yes.”

Fuck.  On top of everything else, now I have to worry about this bitch trying to weasel her way into our life again.  I wondered for a moment if it would have been better if he had screwed around with a total stranger. 

“So even if I can get over this and forgive you, I’ll still have to worry about her contacting you and trying this again.  Fucking perfect, Gav.”

“I won’t let that happen,” he swore, rising to his feet and standing in front of me at the pool’s edge.  “If I hear from her again I’ll tell her that if she doesn’t stop I’ll file a complaint against her and her company for harassment.  She won’t jeopardize her job.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” I insisted.

“Emma, I’ll get her to back off and leave me alone.  Trust me on this.  Don’t worry about her right now.”

How could I not worry about her?  She already got my husband into bed with her once, who’s to say she couldn’t do it again?  Even if she backed off now, what if in a few year’s time she came back again, maybe when we had kids?  I could feel the reigns of my control on my life slipping further and further out of my grasp.

I needed to get away from Gavin and I told him that. 

“I’m not running,” I explained.  “I just need to get out of here.”

“Don’t,” he begged.  “Stay here with me, Emma.  Talk to me.  We can get past this.  We have to.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about right now.  You told me what happened.  I need to process this before I can even think about where to go from here.  I need go somewhere where I can think clearly.”