Riley had never seen or heard from him again. His words had always stayed with her. And because she believed him, she concluded that the real culprit, the real reason he was gone had to be Lorna. And so she’d punished her for that for as long as she could keep it up, until she was too tired of being angry and hurt, and had to let her memories and love for Earl dry up and disappear.
“And the lesson is?” Riley tried to lighten the mood.
Lorna smiled and took a leisurely sip of her tea, coming back to start on her eggs. “Hell if I know.”
Riley laughed.
“With the exception of some kind of abuse, only you can know how much is too much to take from him or from any man. You decide the terms for your life, Riley. Don’t let someone else’s standards for what marriage is make that decision for you . . .”
“Including yours,” Riley interjected.
Lorna grinned. “You kidding? With my track record, especially mine.”
g
Chapter Fifteen
Riley woke up feeling sick to her stomach, her entire abdomen clenched in a tight agonizing ball. When she turned over to try to get out of bed, she realized her period had begun in the middle of the night and she had bled all over the sheets. It was unusual for her to be so out of touch with her body that she didn’t know when her period was due, but everything was out of whack lately. Sighing, she got up and stripped the bed, rolling everything into a ball to throw out. The down mattress cover was ruined as well, so she stripped that and got into the shower, allowing the warm water to course over her head. Watching the swirls of blood and tissue wash down the drain, she felt an inexplicable wave of sadness and began crying for no reason that she could discern.
Except of course for the fact that she was beginning to miss Shawn.
They hadn’t spoken in several weeks but she knew that he’d gotten a sublet in Chelsea from a cellist who was on tour in Europe with a philharmonic. And she knew that he’d gone to Baltimore to see his grandmother for a few days and was due back in the city any day now. She knew only these things because Tracy talked to Brendan just about every day, pumping him for information then faithfully reporting every word.
When she had her period, Shawn was patient and solicitous, and funny too because he acted as though she had some strange affliction. He was completely and sweetly ignorant of this particular mysterious function of the female body except in the most academic sense. He brought her food on trays, constantly asked her how she felt and tirelessly refilled the hot water bottle because he knew she got terrible cramps and because he believed that was what husbands were supposed to do. But if there were no cramps, he wanted her just as much as always, and they made love in the shower so they wouldn’t have to deal with the clean up afterward.
Riley stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in her big terry bathrobe, arming herself with her ‘feminine articles’ and then climbing back onto the bare bed. She reached for the phone and called in sick, hanging up and curling into a fetal position.
The last time she’d seen him, Riley had actually called Shawn over to see her. Her plan was for them to talk but as soon as she saw him, it had devolved into a nasty scene of her saying awful hurtful things, and him standing there and trying to take it. And then he came toward her, and somehow, they wound up kissing—didn’t they always? And for a few seconds, it seemed fine and Riley was relieved because it felt so natural, but when Shawn lowered her back onto the sofa and tried to undress her, something inside her had frozen. She went rigid beneath him, her hands balled up at her sides. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t responding the way she always had. They looked at each other and it was clear that they were both scared. The unspeakable had happened—she didn’t want him. Sex had always been their fail-safe. And it wasn’t working.
Riley pushed the thought of that night out of her mind and turned over into the pillow. Quiet tears squeezed between her eyelids and soon she was sobbing, her chest heaving. Within minutes, she fell asleep.
The phone woke her around eleven and she reached for it, her mind still fuzzy with sleep. It took her a moment to recognize the voice. He was probably on a speaker phone.
“Hi Chris,” she said, her voice gravelly.
“I called your office. They said you were out sick. You a’ight?”
“Yeah. More or less.”
“You want me to bring you anything?”
Riley thought for a moment. Chris Scaife was offering to bring supplies to her sick bed? Maybe she was still sleeping.
“Some lunch later?” she said finally.
“A’ight. What you need?”
“Thai food would be nice.”
“Okay. What you want?”
“Chris,” Riley said. “Why are you doing this? Did Shawn tell you to check up on me? Or Brendan?”
“Damn. I can’t just do a good deed?”
Riley laughed. “Yeah, but I was just wondering why, that’s all. It’s going to be a real pain in the ass for you to go out and find me Thai food and bring it all the way over here, so . . .”
“I’ll get one of the girls over here to go get the food,” he said. “I’m not that damn nice.”
Riley laughed again. “Okay. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Well don’t be. I’ll just drive it over. What you want?”
“Chicken green curry and satay.”
“Spell that,” Chris said.
“S. . . A . . .”
Chris laughed. “I’m messin’ with you. I’ll bring it around one o’ clock, a’ight?”
“Thanks Chris. This is really swee. . . “
“Yeah, yeah. See you at one.” He hung up.
Riley smiled before hanging up herself.
What a surprise Chris Scaife was turning out to be. For some reason he seemed to want her to like him. Of course if Shawn knew he was coming over when she was alone, he would probably fly into one of his irrational rages. Right now, the thought of Shawn being jealous about her and Chris actually made her feel better.
When Chris called from downstairs later, it was just a few minutes after one. Punctual too. The surprises just kept coming. Riley opened the door for him and took the bag he handed her. Chris walked in and surveyed the living room as though he were checking to see if anyone else was there.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the sofa.
“Better. Thanks for the food.” Riley went into the kitchen to get plates and utensils, returning to set them out on the coffee table.
“Nah. That’s a’ight,” Chris said. “Already ate.”
Riley shrugged. “More for me.” She sat cross-legged on the floor and portioned out some chicken, rice and satay. Chris was watching her, saying nothing but she had a feeling he was on a mission. Maybe Shawn had sent him after all. But that was unlikely.
“So what’s going on with you?” she asked him finally.
“I should be asking you that,” he returned.
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“You know. You and Smooth being on the outs.”
“You see him more than I do, so maybe this is a conversation you should be having with Shawn,” Riley said without looking up. “And to be really honest, I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking about it at all.”
“A’ight,” Chris said agreeably. “Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about you and me having dinner sometime. Like tomorrow night.”
Riley looked at him, trying to read his face and gauge from his voice whether she was being hit on. It wouldn’t be the first time she got this vibe from Chris, but for him to make such a bold attempt just seconds after inquiring about her husband would be too vulgar to be believed. Few things would make Shawn as livid as the idea of her going to dinner with Chris Scaife unchaperoned.
“Okay,” she said. “Why not?”
Chris smiled as though he’d known all along she would say yes.
“I’ll send you a car.”
“No,” Riley said,
her mouth full. “Tell me time and place and I’ll be there.”
“You don’t trust me?” he asked.
Riley smiled. “It’s not a question of trust. I don’t want you thinking the wrong thing.”
“And ‘the wrong thing’ would be what?”
“That this dinner is anything other than me agreeing to have a meal with my husband’s business associate.”
Chris grinned. “But now I’m your business associate too. Don’t forget I hooked you up with those female producers.” He stood and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “I’ll holla at you tomorrow sometime.”
“Fine. You do that. And thank you for hooking me up with your producer friends. My boss really liked that story.” Riley stood to let him out but he motioned that she should stay where she was.
He paused at the front door. “I could be a lot more than just that,” he said.
“A lot more than ‘what’?”
“A lot more than just your husband’s business associate.” He smiled at her one last time before he shut the door.
g
Dawn was giving her the cold shoulder because Shawn had left town without giving her a chance to do the photo shoot as promised. He’d been gone two weeks this time around, and she’d long since lost track of what city he was supposed to be in. He didn’t call when she was home, but sometimes left messages that told her little more than that he was still alive. Some she replayed several times before erasing them.
Near the end of a trip out to the West Coast Tracy passed on a message from Brendan asking if she could fly out to California for a photo-op and launch party for Shawn’s new contract with Arista and the launching of So Def Records, his own label. She couldn’t refuse the chance to see him, no matter how tense it might be and she thought the change of scenery might help her shake her dark mood, and make her feel more like herself again.
The weather in New York was just beginning to make the transition from blustery to downright cold even though it was only October. The apartment felt positively frigid most nights—a side-effect of all those glass windows that had gone unmentioned by their realtor.
For a good number of nights each week, she slept on the sofa and her writing was suffering. Hours spent watching music television to produce story ideas only resulted in her crying over Shawn’s music videos and obsessively looking for the dancer he’d slept with in fleeting shots.
There were precious few other diversions except for the occasional after-work drink with Chris Scaife who was turning out to be a pretty decent guy. He tried to help her out with story ideas and gave her tips on emerging trends in the industry that few other people were perceptive enough to recognize, and best of all, he discreetly—to the extent that Chris was able to be discreet—gave her updates on what Shawn was doing.
Apart from that, she had little information about her husband’s life and whereabouts except for the one time she’d seen his picture in a newspaper attending a post-awards show event. Shawn was holding a wineglass and had been caught in mid-conversation with someone who was just out of frame. It hurt just to see him. She knew that if she asked, Tracy would pump Brendan for even more information, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he was really doing. The news she might get may hurt even more than seeing him in a newspaper like a stranger.
g
Tracy was waiting for her after work at a bar and grill on Seventh Avenue. They sat at a table in the rear, desultorily eating the complimentary Buffalo wings and sipping three dollar drafts.
“So you’re going to that Arista party for Shawn next weekend?” she asked.
“Sure. Why not? I guess that’s my job or something right? As The Wife?”
“You’re becoming really cynical about being married to him,” Tracy observed. “That can’t be a good thing.”
“It’s hard not to be cynical when your husband cheats on you.” Riley wiped her hands on a napkin and reached for her beer.
Across the room at the bar, a couple guys were scoping her and Tracy out. Only lately had she begun to notice the attention she got from men again. It seemed like she’d been blocking all of out for such a long time. Shawn hated it, so she’d gotten used to pretending it wasn’t happening. Now, she thought wryly, she had the all-clear to flirt again if she wanted to.
“Cheated. There’s a difference,” Tracy pointed out.
“You know more than I do then.”
“So you’re saying you think he’s still cheating on you.”
“Who knows?”
“If you really thought that, I don’t think you’d be going to California,” Tracy shook her head.
“Maybe you’re right. But now I know that the potential for him to cheat is there.”
“The potential for damn near anything to happen is there. The potential for you to get hit by a train tonight on the way home is there . . . doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. And you certainly can’t live the rest of your life on that basis.”
“Whatever Tracy. Cheating doesn’t happen. Someone does it.”
“Okay, but Riley, let’s not forget that your relationship with Shawn started with you cheating on Brian, so maybe it’s time to stop being so sanctimonious about this. Be angry, be upset, but for heaven’s sake, don’t be sanctimonious.”
“Don’t hold back, Tracy. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m not trying to be mean but it’s been three months already. If you want to divorce him, you should get moving with that. But if you aren’t going to, maybe you need to find a way to deal with this other than bitterness and cynicism.”
“Wow. You’re really heaping it on today,” Riley said dryly.
“And another thing,” Tracy said, on a roll now. “Your hands aren’t entirely clean either. What about these little boyfriends you always have hanging around? The way you strung Brian along even after you were married? All that was missing from that little affair was the sex. And now Chris Scaife. Really.”
“That’s not fair.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. Consider it food for thought, then. I wonder if these romantic friendships would be just as acceptable if it was Shawn and some little chick who he claimed was ‘just a friend’.”
“So have you thought about coming to California with me?” Riley asked, pointedly changing the subject. Brendan had invited her as well, and so far she was resisting the idea.
“Nope. What would be the point?”
“To have a good time. To keep me company.”
“I don’t want to have a good time,” Tracy said dully. “And you have Shawn to keep you company.”
“Okay, so you’ll keep Brendan company.”
Tracy tilted her head to one side. “It’s not happening, okay? Me and Brendan? Not happening.”
Riley shook her head. “I don’t see how you can say that. After all the calls, the . . .”
“Brendan is,” Tracy paused and chose her words carefully. “. . . maybe the most decent guy I’ve met in, I don’t know how long. He’s the best friend I’ve made since, well, since you. But it’s no more than that.”
Riley’s first instinct was to argue the point—if they could be such good friends, why couldn’t they be more? But the fact of the matter was, she and Shawn were married but by no stretch of the imagination were they good friends, so what did that mean? She was hardly in the position to question someone else’s relationship when her own was such a God-awful mess.
“I know what it looked like for awhile.” Tracy shrugged. “We liked talking on the phone together. That’s all.”
“That’s plenty.”
“Yeah, but don’t try to make it more than it is. I already thought it through and his lifestyle, my lifestyle, the things I want out of life . . . we’re just headed in different directions. I’m not like you, Riley. I can’t jump into the deep end and try to learn how to swim later.”
“Is that what I do?”
“Yeah.” Tracy said almost sadly. “It is. And it’s caught up with
you. Big-time.”
g
Living in the apartment alone was more difficult than she thought it would be. It seemed so huge and so quiet, especially at night. In the dark and silence, Riley couldn’t help but think too much about everything. Most especially Tracy’s words tonight. That was what she’d done—jump in and try to figure things out later. She was married to someone she barely knew. That was the long and short of it. The things she loved about him were only the tip of the iceberg. What did she actually know about his capacity for faithfulness? Or his willingness to change, or compromise to do what it took to make a relationship work?
And without knowing any of these things she’d promised to love, honor and cherish him for all the days of her life. It seemed ridiculous now that she hadn’t really absorbed the meaning of those words, even as she said them. Lorna was right; those had been heady, mindless, intoxicating days. Even the opposition to their marriage hadn’t swayed her—she was in a fog then, and couldn’t see clearly to save her life. But even so, knowing what she now knew, she couldn’t let him go.
It should have been getting easier to be without him, it was getting steadily worse. Noticing other men, flirting a little with random guys and increasingly with Chris Scaife, none of that seemed to put a dent in what was the overwhelming reality of her life these days—she missed her husband.
Meeting people for drinks and dinner was what she did to fill the empty time. Usually, if she arranged things just right, she would be out until sometime between eleven-thirty and one a.m. so when she got home, it would be all she could do to get her shoes off and collapse, exhausted into bed.
She tried to rotate her social engagements, between Tracy, Chris and Peter or Walsh so she was hardly ever really alone. She never used to mind being alone—it was when her best ideas had come, when she’d written her best. But now, alone just reminded her she was without Shawn.
Commitment Page 38
