The Color of a Memory

by Julianne MacLean

  But I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t let go. I could feel Alex, always at my side, whispering in my ear, telling me not to forget.

  Though I loved him deeply, still, there were times when I resented him—or rather his ghost, if such a thing existed—for such selfishness. Why did he want to torture me like this? Wouldn’t he prefer for my heart to heal? For me to find happiness again? To let go of the sadness and anger over the fact that he was taken from me, and I didn’t even get to say good-bye?

  Which brings me back to the moment I reached across the seat to open the glove box and rifle around inside.

  What was in there?

  Not much—just some old napkins from the time we went to a midnight drive-through on the way home from the movies, not long before Alex died. I had been working nights that week and was craving a burger with extra pickles. He got it for me, of course. He always said he wanted to give me everything.

  He gave me Wendy, but he also caused me great pain from beyond the grave when that glove box door fell open.

  * * *

  Imagine my surprise when I discovered a picture of a baby which was taken during an ultrasound. At first glance I thought it must be Wendy, but as I peered closer I realized it was different from the picture I had of her.

  Turning it over in my hand, I found a few words scribbled on the back in blue pen.

  For Alex – I hope she has your good looks!

  – C.

  A tiny heart was drawn in the bottom right-hand corner and just below that, it was dated one week before Alex died.

  I swallowed uneasily and tried to make sense of it. Were there any close family members who might have been expecting a child at that time—a cousin or a niece? His sister, Sarah, had never been pregnant, as far as I knew. And this note was signed with the initial “C.”

  For a long time I sat there, confused as I stared at the photo. Suddenly there was a ringing in my ears. Then I found myself fighting a wave of nausea that rose up in my belly as I recalled the weeks before Alex’s death, when he came home late from work and seemed distracted all the time.

  I wasn’t proud of what I suspected while sitting in the front seat of his car—that he might have been having an affair—because he wasn’t here to defend himself, and I certainly didn’t want to become a jealous wife two years after his death, but what else could this be? My father always said, “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.”

  Oh God…

  My heart throbbed in the most excruciating way, and I closed my eyes. Please, not this. Don’t let it be this. Not my Alex.

  Tears filled my eyes and I couldn’t seem to breathe without my ribs quaking and shuddering. How could this be?

  No…it couldn’t be.

  For a long time I sat there in shock, overcome by a wave of grief that felt the same as it had when the doctor told me Alex’s head injury was so severe, he would never open his eyes again. I don’t think there is a way to describe the hurt I felt, knowing my worst fears had come true—that I had been wrong to trust my husband, and the love I believed to be special and mutual was not the forever kind—at least not for him.

  I cried and cried until I was completely spent, then I slipped the photograph into the pocket of my jean skirt, got out of the car and went to collect Wendy. I had to say good-bye to Jean and Garry quickly before I lost control of my emotions again.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  As soon as I arrived home, I pressed play on a DVD for Wendy and went a little crazy in my bedroom.

  Not long after the first anniversary of Alex’s death, I had cleaned out the closets and gotten rid of most of his personal belongings—a horrendous chore I didn’t feel ready for at the time, but Cathy had encouraged me to do it.

  Now there was little left to search through—no pockets where I might find evidence of a hotel room stay or a receipt for lingerie he never gave to me.

  These were all terrible clichés, of course, which was why I felt completely delusional as I plugged in his old cell phone—one thing I had kept—and searched through all the calls from those final weeks. I found nothing out of the ordinary, no numbers I didn’t recognize, no unfamiliar contact names that began with the letter C.

  Tossing the phone onto the bed, I paced back and forth, not knowing what to do. I wished I was one of those women who could turn a blind eye and ignore unpleasant things. Why couldn’t I just stuff the ultrasound photo into a trash bin on the street and sweep it from my mind?

  Alex had been gone for two years now. I couldn’t confront him or walk out on him in a huff. It would never lead to a divorce. What was the point in even knowing the truth—if in fact there was something to know?

  All that being said, I knew I’d never be able to let it go because I was not one of those women who could turn a blind eye, and I didn’t want this photo to destroy the wonderful memories I had of my husband.

  Besides, what if Alex had another child out there somewhere? A half-sister for Wendy? Didn’t we both deserve to know the truth?

  Surely someone had the answer. But who?

  Sitting down on the bed, I stared at the telephone for a long moment and could think of only one person.

  * * *

  Alex’s friend David had been a pallbearer at the funeral, and he had come around to the apartment a few times to lend a hand after Alex passed. He helped me set up a new computer when my old laptop was too slow, which I greatly appreciated because I was slightly tech-challenged.

  He also took care of some practical details at the department, like making sure I received Alex’s final paychecks and benefits and dealing with Alex’s personal belongings in his locker.

  Around that time, David started dating a female police officer and the last I’d heard, they’d moved in together. That was a year ago and I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time, but now I had a good excuse to call.

  Or maybe it wasn’t exactly a good excuse. I didn’t want David to think I was losing my mind, creating dramas just to keep Alex alive in my imagination.

  But I had to find out the truth.

  Since I didn’t know David’s number off hand, I reached for Alex’s cell phone and found him in the list of contacts. Then I called from the landline on the bedside table.

  David answered after the first ring. “Hello?”

  The beat of my pulse accelerated. “Hi David. It’s Audrey Fitzgerald.”

  “Hey,” he gently replied. “It’s great to hear from you. God, it’s been way too long.” He paused. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I should have called to check on you. How are you doing?”

  “No need to apologize,” I said. “I’m doing well. Wendy’s growing like a weed. She’ll be starting school soon.”

  “Wow,” he said. “That’s great. Time sure flies. Are you still working in the ER?”

  “Yes, as many shifts as I can get,” I told him. “How about you? Are you still with the department?”

  “Yep. Can’t seem to imagine doing anything different.”

  There was an awkward pause, and I felt a sudden impulse to shovel words into it. “You’re probably wondering why I’m calling.”

  “Kind of,” he replied. “Not that it matters. I’m just glad to hear from you.”

  I sighed. “That’s nice of you to say, David. Thank you, but now I feel really dumb. You’re going think I’m crazy, and I probably am.”

  “What is it?” he asked, sounding both curious and concerned.

  I didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t want to lead with the worst case scenario, so I attempted to ease into it.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about the last few weeks before Alex died. He had said he was taking some online courses to upgrade his certification. Do you know anything about that?”

  David was quiet for a moment. “No, he never mentioned it to me. At least I don’t remember anything. It was a long time ago.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if David knew something and was trying to protect Alex. Or maybe,
with Alex gone, he was trying to protect me.

  “Did you notice that he was staying late at work most nights?” I asked. “He told me he was working on the computer there.”

  For what seemed like a long while, David didn’t say anything, and when he finally spoke his voice was husky and low. “Why are you asking me this, Audrey? Is there something going on?”

  Hearing the added concern in his voice, I cupped my forehead in a hand and shut my eyes. Then I decided there was no point beating around the bush. If I wanted David to tell me what he knew, I was going to have to tell him what I knew.

  “I found a picture in the Buick,” I said. “It was an ultrasound of a baby in someone’s womb—incidentally, not my womb—and there was a note written on the back. It said ‘For Alex, I hope she gets your good looks.’ It was signed with the initial C and dated a week before Alex died. There was a little heart drawn in the bottom corner.”

  “Do you still have the picture?” David asked.

  “Yes, and I’m trying to figure out what it means. I don’t want to assume the worst, but it’s kind of hard not to because in those last few weeks, I did notice Alex seemed distracted.” I paused. “Please, David, if you know something, will you tell me? I need to know the truth.”

  I flopped onto my back on the bed and braced myself for his reply.

  “Honestly, I don’t know anything,” he told me. “Alex never confided in me about any secret affairs, if that’s what you’re thinking. And I can’t imagine he would have cheated on you. He loved you and Wendy.”

  “Then why was this picture in the Buick?” I asked. “And why do I have this terrible gut feeling that he was hiding something?”

  David thought about it. “I don’t know. I wish I could offer you some insight, but I didn’t notice anything unusual about him in those final weeks. He seemed fine to me.”

  I breathed a heavy sigh. “You must think I’m crazy, calling you like this.”

  “No, I don’t,” he said. “To be honest, I’d like to see the picture for myself.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to take a look at the handwriting. Maybe it’ll help me think of something. Are you doing anything right now?”

  “No, I’m just sitting here, brooding.”

  He chuckled. “How about I come over? I’ve got nothing else to do.”

  “That would be great,” I replied. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  I hung up and went to check on Wendy.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The first thing David did when he walked in the door was give me a hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said, then he glanced over at Wendy who was lying on the sofa, immersed in her movie.

  David approached her. “Hey kiddo, remember me?”

  She looked up and smiled shyly, then nodded her head.

  “What are you watching?” he asked.

  “Monsters, Inc.”

  He turned toward the television. “Yeah, I’ve seen this.”

  “The little girl isn’t even scared.”

  David nodded. “You’re right. She’s pretty brave.” He watched for another minute or two, then followed me into the kitchen.

  “Want some coffee?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I filled the coffee maker, pressed the start button and went to the cupboard to fetch two mugs. David leaned against the counter, watching me the whole time.

  “So where is it?” he casually asked.

  Knowing he was referring to the ultrasound picture, I picked it up off the pile of bills by the telephone and handed it to him.

  He examined it, then flipped it over. When he read the note, his brow furrowed with displeasure. “This is strange,” he admitted, “but it doesn’t ring any bells. I’m sorry.” He handed it back to me.

  The coffeepot gurgled and I set the picture down on the counter.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” David said. “You mentioned Alex was distracted those last few weeks.”

  “Yes, and he was coming home late. He said he was at the station working on that course. I was hoping you’d remember that.”

  David shook his head.

  I opened the refrigerator door to get the milk. “Would the chief remember anything?” I asked. “Would he be able to tell me if David was enrolled in a course? I just want to know if he was telling me the truth about that.”

  “I can ask him,” David replied. “But do you still have Alex’s old cell phone? Have you checked that?”

  “I did, and I didn’t find anything.”

  “What about your old computer?” he asked. “Did you ever get rid of it?”

  I had to think for a minute. “No, I still have it. I didn’t want to trash it because all our personal information was on there. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “Can you get it?” David asked. “I could check the history and see if he had any extra email accounts you might not have known about. Do you know his Facebook password?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Then I met David’s gaze. “But I feel guilty about this—prying into Alex’s personal life without his permission. It feels wrong and disrespectful.”

  I poured two cups of coffee and handed one to David.

  “Don’t feel guilty,” he said. “You need peace of mind and you need to know where that picture came from. Even I’ll admit to being curious. If I were in your shoes, I’d want to know.”

  I felt my shoulders relax slightly and set my coffee cup down on the table. “Wait here. I know where the old computer is. I’ll go get it.”

  * * *

  By the time we had the old laptop plugged in and fired up at the kitchen table, the credits on the movie started to roll. Wendy jumped up off the sofa and turned off the television. “Can we go outside now?” she asked, running to wrap her arms around my legs.

  I turned to David, who was already clicking buttons on the keyboard. “We have a firm rule in this house,” I said. “Whenever credits roll on a movie—”

  “We turn it off and go outside,” Wendy finished for me.

  “Unless it’s bed time,” I said to her. “Then what do we do?”

  “Turn it off and go to bed!”

  “That’s right.”

  David’s eyes lifted and he smiled at Wendy. “That’s a good rule. You’re mom’s a very smart lady.” He looked up at me. “Go on outside. This might take me a while.”

  I wrote down the passwords he needed and said, “We’ll just be across the street in the playground if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  I gave his shoulder a squeeze of gratitude as I turned to take Wendy outside.

  We played for about a half hour, then David walked out the front door of our apartment and strode across the street.

  I felt a rush of anxiety, because I had no idea what he was about to tell me. As he drew closer, I saw that he was frowning.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Did you find something?” I asked as he reached me.

  Wendy was amusing herself on top of the play structure. There were no other children around.

  “Maybe,” he said, “but I’m not sure. What I found wasn’t actually hidden anywhere. It was in Alex’s regular email account, but in the deleted items. I just stumbled across it.”

  “What was it?”

  He glanced uneasily up at Wendy. “Maybe it’s nothing, but did Alex ever mention ‘Vintage Car Chick’ to you? Do you know who that might be?”

  I slowly shook my head. “No.”

  His eyes met mine and he hesitated. “Then I don’t know if I should show you this right now.”

  My stomach turned over. “Why not now? Please, David. I can take it.”

  Reluctantly he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. “I printed it for you.”

  I unfolded it and noted that it was dated only a few days before Alex died. The sender’s email address was listed as vintagecarchick@—.

  I quickly
began to read.

  Hi Alex. I feel unbelievably happy today and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you drove so far to see me last night. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I told you about the baby, but you were amazing. It means so much to me to know that I can count on you. I was scared last night and I know I said some crazy things, but now I have no doubt that this child is going to be the luckiest girl in the world to have you in her life.

  I know you want to keep our relationship secret for now, and I understand why. You want to protect your family and I admire you for that. I promised last night that I would respect that wish. I’m just glad I found you.

  Love Carla

  My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak or move. I feared I might pass out.

  “Are you okay?” David asked with concern.

  My chest heaved. “I’m not sure. I’d like to hit something right now.”

  He waited patiently for me to process what I’d read.

  “Did Alex reply to this?” I asked, lifting my watery gaze. “And were there any other emails from her?”

  “That was the only one I found,” David replied. “And I searched through all the laptop files. I also searched Twitter and Facebook, but I didn’t find anyone to match up with the ‘Vintage Car Chick’ handle.” He paused and raked a hand through his hair. “God, Audrey, this is hard. Part of me wasn’t even sure if I should tell you about this. And I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  “Did he reply?” I asked again.

  At last, David nodded. “Do you want to see that email, too?”

  My stomach muscles clenched. “Yes.”

  This time he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out another folded piece of paper from my home printer.

  Clearly, David had given a great deal of thought to how he was going to present these emails to me.

  I unfolded the second email and read that one as well.

  Hi Carla. I was happy to see you last night, too. Everything makes sense to me now. But it’s really important that you don’t email me at this address. Please use my work email, at least for the time being. I promise I’ll figure everything out soon. Just give me some time. It’s not going to be easy to hurt people I care about. I’m glad you understand. I’ll call you tonight.