by ANDREA SMITH
“I doubt that very much, baby girl,” I’d sobbed. She was so precious to me. I loved her so much.
The following week after Lindsey had returned to college, Jack remained at home. He’d spent hours upon hours in the office on the computer. He had multiple hushed conversations with someone that I could only presume was his right-hand bitch/nark, Susan.
I’d spent my time cleaning, cooking, and working out in the yard, since it was time for spring clean-up. I had no means of communication unless Jack allowed it.
He’d allowed me to call Becky a couple of times. She had wondered what in the hell had happened to my cell phone. I had lied, telling her it went through the laundry and I was waiting on a replacement. Jack would sit right there while I was on the phone, listening.
He created a world of paranoia for me with each passing day, leading me to believe that, even when he did hit the road again, there would still be eyes and ears on me no matter where I went, or what I did. It was a mind-game of huge proportions. It was working.
I called Becky from my land line the day after Jack left to go back on the road.
“Hello stranger,” she laughed when she answered the phone.
“Hi, Bec. You busy?”
“Just the usual shit: cleaning, laundry - stuff like that, why?”
“I just thought it’d be nice to have lunch or something. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“Is something wrong, Sam?”
“No, not at all,” I lied, figuring Jack was likely tapping the phone. “I just feel cooped up. I’d like to get out for a bit now that it’s starting to warm up.”
“Okay, I’m game. Where do you want to meet?”
Uh oh.
Jack had installed some type of GPS in the Mercedes where he could tell where I traveled and how long I stayed. I didn’t want to fuck with it.
“Could you pick me up, Bec? I misplaced my remote to the car. I don’t feel like tearing the house apart looking for it at the moment.”
“Sure,” she said. I breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. This paranoia was crippling. “Be there in about thirty, how does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
I took a quick shower, putting my long-tressed, brunette wig on over my own hair. I was ready by the time I heard Becky’s Accord out front honking. I hurried outside and got into the car.
“Nice hair,” she commented wryly. “Are you going incognito for a reason?”
I was ready to let the tears roll. Becky saw it.
“What the hell is wrong?”
I immediately burst into tears. “Just drive, please? Get us the hell out of here. Jack could have cameras or a fucking tracking satellite on me for all I know.”
She drove the car out of our drive and down the road about a half-mile before she pulled over and turned off the ignition. She turned to face me; her face was serious and concerned.
“For the love of Christ, Samantha, what’s going on?”
I told her everything in between my sobs and bouts of hysteria. She looked at me as if she thought I’d gone off of the deep end. If Becky didn’t believe my paranoia was warranted, who else would?
“You need to get in touch with your parents.”
“I can’t, don’t you see? If I do, Jack will ruin my relationship with them, but more importantly, he’ll ruin my relationship with Lindsey,” I wailed, now starting to hyperventilate.
“Calm down, Sam. Take deep breaths and calm down. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
I nodded, too afraid to speak. She unfastened her seat belt and put her arms around me, giving me the BFF hug that I so desperately needed.
“Can we let George in on this, Sam? I really think he might be able to help.”
I wasn’t sure if I could trust anyone, with the exception of Becky. I was so scared of what Jack might do.
“If you’re worried that George will judge you, there’s no need. He thinks you hung the moon and, for whatever I think of Jack, I guaran-damn-tee you that George thinks one hundred times worse. Please?”
“Okay,” I said sniffling. “But there’s more, Bec.”
“Just tell me, sweetie. It can’t be worse than anything you’ve just told me.”
“My period’s late, really late.”
“Holy fuck. Déjà vu all over again. We’re hitting a drug store, then to my house to test, okay?”
I nodded again, pulling a tissue from my purse to blow my nose.
Becky went into the CVS Pharmacy a few blocks from her house, and came out with an E.P.T. package. We rode in silence to her house. The kids were at school. George was at work.
I made my obligatory pee contribution then reclined on her couch while she set the timer. I needed to relax and calm down. Being hysterical wasn’t going to change the outcome of the test as she’d so eloquently pointed out.
I’d nearly dozed off when I heard Becky come back into the room. I could tell by the look on her face the news wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
“I guess congratulations are in order, Sam. You’re going to be a mother, again.”
chapter 28
I sat on Becky’s couch, feeling nothing but numbness. It’s strange that numbness can even be felt, but it can. I was in a numbing fog. I wasn’t sure why I was even numb or surprised. My periods came like clockwork. This one hadn’t.
My mind drifted back to my last time with Slate. It had happened then, the afternoon that we had slept entwined with one another afterwards. It had happened on that magical afternoon when I’d told Slate that I needed him, and he’d told me the same.
I felt the warm, salty tears roll down my cheeks. Becky was sitting beside me on the couch. She had an arm around me, trying to give me best friend comfort.
“Sam - you’re my best friend. You know that I’ll support you in any decision you make, right?”
I nodded.
“I mean, if you want, I can make the arrangements for you. I’ll drive you there and stay by your side throughout the whole…procedure.”
Procedure?
She saw my cluelessness immediately. Then it dawned on me what she’d meant. I looked over at her, not bothering to hide my horrified expression.
“I can’t believe that you would even suggest that to me, Becky,” I said. I pulled myself away from her and stood up. I was pacing now. I was furious.
“Look Sam, I didn’t mean to make you angry. You do have options, though.”
“That,” I hissed, “is not an option for me!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. What are you going to do? You know Jack will figure it out soon enough.”
“Jack and I aren’t together for the long haul. That much you already know. This changes a lot of other things as well. This baby deserves my protection every bit as much as Lindsey does. If I have to tell Lindsey the truth about everything, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Let’s not cross that bridge just yet,” she suggested. “Don’t you think there’s someone else you need to tell first?”
Oh God. Slate.
“Let me think for a minute, Becky. I need to sort this out.”
She left the room, coming back in a few moments later with a hot cup of Chamomile tea for me. I accepted it from her gratefully. I sipped it slowly, allowing the calming effect to seep in.
“Will you drive me over to Slate’s? I have to do this now while I have the opportunity and the nerve.”
“Sure,” she said, grabbing her keys. “Let’s go.”
I gave her directions to Slate’s apartment. It was a good twenty minutes away by interstate.
I thought about the things a mother thinks about when she finds out she’s expecting. Our baby would be due in December. I would be thirty-six years old when it was born. My birthday was July 12th. I wasn’t sure how old Slate would be. We had never shared birthday information with each other. That had gone under the heading of ‘personal’ information.
I directed Becky to the neighborhood once we had exited the freeway. As she pulled down his street, I instructed her to park across from his apartment and down a couple of houses. I needed to scope out the situation, to see if it looked like he was even home; to make sure none of the other bikers were loitering nearby. I asked Becky to lower her window a bit to see if I could hear anyone.
I gazed back and forth across the street and down the alley. It appeared as if he had no visitors. There were no bikes or trucks present. I couldn’t hear his stereo blasting from his apartment. His truck was parked up next to the garage. I gathered my courage, nodding to her that I was going to do it.
Just as my fingers touched the door handle, we both heard the upstairs door to the apartment fling open. I froze as I watched Garnet descending the wooden stairs from his apartment. Slate was right behind her. He was only wearing jeans. I saw the silver cross on the chain around his neck glisten in the sunlight. I sucked my breath in sharply. A pain had formed in my chest and was quickly spreading throughout my body.
We both watched as Slate yanked Garnet around to face him. Some loud words were exchanged. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. The next thing I saw was Slate pulling her against his bare chest. He was soothing her. She buried her head into him.
“Get me the hell out of here - now!”
Becky wasted no time in putting the car in gear and peeling out from where we were parked. She made a quick right at the corner. She drove several blocks at a high rate of speed, as if that would change anything, or erase what we had witnessed.
“Who the hell was that girl?”
“Just a fucking bitch named Garnet,” I replied. “I’m glad that Slate was able to move on so quickly.”
“Fuck him!” Becky was pissed. That’s what best friends say when someone has hurt their BFF.
“Slow down, Becky. Please pull over now.”
She did so without asking why. As she pulled to the curb, I flung my car door open and stepped out on to the grassy strip next to the sidewalk. I vomited into the newly blooming grass there. I waited a few minutes to make sure that I was done.
I got back into the car. Becky handed me a tissue so that I could wipe my mouth and blow my nose. She handed me her unopened water bottle. I took a nice long drink, washing down the sour taste in my mouth along with the memory of what I’d just seen.
“Yep,” I said. “Fuck all of them.”
chapter 29
It was the first of May. Spring was gorgeous and, after getting over the initial shock of what I’d witnessed a few weeks prior, I’d accepted the reality of what my life was now. I’d also decided what my life wasn’t going to be going forward. I wasn’t going to allow Jack to bully, beat or blackmail me.
Becky had taken George into our confidence. He now knew everything pertaining to Jack’s treatment of me, the financial concerns that I had, and the fact that I was pregnant by someone else.
I’d begged Becky not to divulge the details to him of my short-lived gig as a dancer along with my even shorter role as ‘cougar whore’ to a biker. Becky said those things were strictly on a need-to-know basis, and George didn’t need to know that aspect of it.
George had spent several hours going over the Excel files that I’d downloaded a few months back and emailed to Becky. Since Jack’s discovery of my secret life, I was no longer taking care of the bills. In fact, Jack had moved the desktop computer to his office at Banion. I presumed Susan was handling our finances for him at the moment, among other things. I didn’t really give a shit.
Jack was due home tomorrow. I was trying my best to prepare myself for his return. I’d replaced my cell, complete with new number.
Jack had attempted to cut me off financially by having Susan handling our finances. The bills were being paid in his absence, but my bank card had been cancelled. I still had the rest of my credit cards to use as I wished, though I knew damn well everything I purchased would be scrutinized or cancelled.
I dug into my hidden cash reserve from all of my dancing tips and purchased my own phone. I discovered I had a significant stash tucked away. I didn’t want Jack to know shit about what I was doing. I prepaid my phone service out for a full year so that my monthly charges could not be viewed by Jack. There would be no paper or electronic trail whatsoever. I didn’t want him to have my number or to be able to track any of my comings or goings.
I took my Mercedes to the dealer and had them remove the GPS apparatus that Jack had them install. I moved all of my clothes to a spare bedroom and had a locksmith install a dead-bolt lock on the interior side of the door.
Becky had phoned earlier. She wanted me to come by their house. George had someone he wanted me to meet regarding the bank information I’d downloaded. I was just heading out the door when the landline rang. I checked caller I.D. It was Jack.
“Hello?”
“Sammie, I understand from a phone call I received that you took it upon yourself to have the GPS disengaged on your car. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?”
“Maybe, Jack, but I don’t think so.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’ll find out,” I smirked, showing more courage than what I actually felt at the moment. I hung the phone up and hurried out of the house.
When I got to Becky and George’s, there was a ‘fiftyish’ looking man there in a business suit. He looked nerdy, but professional. George introduced him to me as Alan Krause.
“Samantha, Alan’s a forensic accountant for the law firm we use at our company. His expertise is being able to analyze, reconstruct and detect various types of criminal activity such as money laundering, fraud and tax evasion. I really think it’s prudent at this time to have a set of eyes on what you have provided to ensure that if any type of illegal activity has been transpiring, you’re not implicated.”
“George, you’re scaring me,” I replied. It was the truth. What the hell had Jack been involved in over the past couple of years?
“Mrs. Dennison,” Alan started, “I’ll do my best to untangle what I can with the records you have provided for this time period. If I cannot come to any viable conclusion, I’ll make contact with the county D.A.’s office and offer these records for their inspection to see if, in fact, they may coincide with any current investigations. Hopefully, by doing this under your approval, any subsequent criminal charges wouldn’t be lodged against you. In other words, you’re offering evidence that could be linked to criminal activity that you’re unaware of. Having said that, the D.A. would hopefully ascertain that you were not a party to it.”
“You’re saying ‘hopefully’ Mr. Krause. That means there’s no guarantee.”
“There are never any guarantees, Mrs. Dennison. However, in my judgment, this is the best route to take.”
I looked over at George. He nodded his head which told me I needed to take this as my best shot for proving my innocence to whatever type of activities Jack was involved in.
“Okay,” I said. “Please keep me informed of your progress.”
“Very well, Mrs. Dennison. I have the records for examination. I’ll contact you in a few weeks.”
While I was on pins and needles about what this forensic accountant might discover, the fact that I’d done something proactive made me feel as if I was taking back some of the control I’d relinquished to Jack. It felt good.
The accountant had cautioned me not to let Jack know that anything was being investigated, and to hold off any mention of terminating our marriage until such time as the financial shell game Jack was playing yielded some results. He said once divorce lawyers got involved in determining assets, the whole
financial picture could become even more skewed. That was going to be the hardest part for me. I would have to test my skills as an actress.
The next day, Becky and George were both at my house when Jack made his entrance. He was immediately taken aback by their presence. We had discussed how we were to handle it amongst ourselves the evening before. Jack tried to recover from his initial surprise by putting on a congenial façade.
“Hey George… . . . Becky, nice to see you both. How have you been?”
He walked towards me, preparing to give me a husbandly kiss, as if he’d missed me.
Yeah, right.
“Cut the crap,” I snapped.
His demeanor immediately changed to one of being stunned.
“George and Becky know everything. I’ve told them all about it. Now, why don’t you take a seat so that I can fill you in on some things you don’t know?”
He gave me a look of pure hatred. He clamped his lips together in a thin line and took a seat across from me. George and Becky didn’t take their eyes off of him. I loved watching him squirm emotionally…not having the upper hand at the moment.
“First of all, I’m pregnant. Oh, and in case you get confused, we’re happy about it. I’m having the baby and it makes no difference to me whether people know that it’s not yours. That includes my parents and Lindsey, got it?”
He shook his head up and down slowly.
“I’ve taken my own room downstairs, for which I’ve installed a lock. You’ll respect my privacy. You’ll also never, ever lay a hand on me again, is that understood?”
Again, he nodded.
“Good,” I said, continuing, “our marriage needs to be repaired Jack. I realize that this can’t happen overnight. For now, I want an internal separation of sorts. We can explain it to Lindsey by saying my pregnancy is a difficult one and I need my own space, that is, of course, dependent upon whether you also want this marriage to work at some point.”
