by Portia Moore
Throughout our entire marriage, I have never invaded Cal’s privacy, not once. But there is a first time for everything and this is completely warranted. I need answers, and I need them now— if I have to snoop for them, so be it. I hit the power button, and of course, it’s password-protected. I tiptoe past Raven’s bedroom and down the stairs to find the cordless house phone and dial Cal’s number. When it rings, I answer it and put it on speaker so that I can get into his contact list.
I only want Dexter’s wife’s phone number. Granted, if I hadn’t thrown my own phone off the balcony before I left home, I wouldn’t have to do this, but that’s beside the point. I’m tempted to go through the call history. After a short debate, I give in, and when I search through it, I see it’s been cleared. I roll my eyes at that; He wouldn’t need to delete his call history unless he had something to hide? But I knew that already, didn’t’ I? I sigh, grab a pen off of the end table, and write Helen’s number down on a piece of paper.
Resting Cal’s phone on my lap, I sit back on Raven’s plush lounger and dial Helen’s number on the house phone. I bite my lip as the dial tone rings. I hope she’ll answer an unknown number. I know it’s a long shot; it’s only 6:30 am.
“Hello?” she answers and I thank God for my luck.
“Helen. Hi, it’s Lauren. Is this a good time?” I say quietly, not wanting either Raven or Cal to hear me.
“Lauren? How are you? And where are you calling from? I almost didn’t answer. Is everything ok?”
“Uhm. That’s actually why I was calling you.” I take a glance at the hallway to make sure no one is there.
“Has Dexter mentioned anything to you about him and Cal having a falling out?”
“No, I don’t think so. You know how they are, though. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that Dexter called Cal yesterday and told him something that really upset him. I thought it might have been business-related. Or if not, maybe you have some idea what happened.”
“Dex hasn’t said anything to me, but he doesn’t usually keep me up to date on his business affairs,” she laughs.
“And if it wasn’t business related?” I ask.
“Dex is in Ireland right now. I can have him give you a call...”
“I’m asking you, Helen,” I interrupt her, hoping the urgency in my voice is apparent. “Is there anything that you can tell me, anything I should know?” I ask pleadingly. Helen and I have never been the best of friends. Yet we still share a bond, even if unspoken. We both are in love with men who seem to only trust their secrets with each other. However, I believe Helen chooses to stay in the dark, while I’m forced to. I’ve never talked to her about my relationship with Cal. I’ve never dragged her into our personal affairs or threw myself into theirs, but today, I’m hoping she hears my plea and, by some miracle, offers me something to go on. I think I’ve shocked her, since there is a long pause on the line.
“I’m sorry, Lauren. Dex hasn’t told me anything.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course he wouldn’t.” I don’t believe that at all.
“Lauren, I’m sorry but…” Cal’s phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, making me jump. It’s an unknown number.
“I’ve got to go, Helen. Thanks anyway.” I say before hanging up the phone. I stare at it and contemplate whether to answer it or not. I’ve already snooped for numbers, might as well go all the way now. I pick up the phone and bring it to my ear. I don’t say anything, hoping that the person on the other line will say something first. Seconds pass, but the person on the other end remains silent.
“Hello?” I finally say out of frustration. The person on the other end of the line doesn’t say anything. “Is anyone there?”
“I’m sorry. I have the wrong number,” a voice says and abruptly hangs up. A woman’s voice older than me, maybe around Raven’s age. It doesn’t sit right with me. I call the number back from Raven’s phone.
“Thank you for calling Madison General Hospital. Your call may be recorded for quality review. A representative will be with you shortly,” the recording tells me. I hang the phone up. Well, that couldn't be less helpful. Maybe it was just a wrong number.
I head back upstairs to my room. He’s awake and sitting at the foot of the bed when I walk in. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what’s to come next. Biting the bullet, I hold the phone out to him.
His expression is blank. “So, you’re going through my phone now?”
“I wanted Helen’s number,” I reply, trying to remain calm. I wait for him to take the phone back, and when he doesn’t, I sit down beside him.
“And why would you be calling Helen?” he asks sharply.
“Well, I thought she could tell me what happened yesterday, seeing as you don’t feel the need to,” I snap back at him.
His jaw clenches. “If I didn’t want to tell you, you should respect my decision,” he says, rubbing his temples.
“And if I tell you that I need to know, you should respect that request and tell me,” I retort.
He runs his hands through his hair, takes the phone from my hand, and turns his attention from me to it.
“I want to know what made you so upset yesterday and where you went,” I say trying to keep the edge from my voice.
“Helen couldn’t fill you in on that, huh?” he says sarcastically.
“Now!”
“Here we fucking go,” he says irately, slamming his phone on the bed.
“Is it just me, or does it seem that every time we take one step forward, you run two steps back?” I can feel my frustration level rising as I speak.
He stands up and turns, towering over me. “Because every time we’re okay, you find something, anything to start arguing with me about!” he yells.
“Cal, you left here visibly upset yesterday. You didn’t tell me what was wrong. I tried to be there for you, and you kicked me out of the fucking car! Why would you think everything is ok after that?” I ask. He’s far from stupid, but this is the dumbest shit I have ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Well, you seemed fine last night!” he says sarcastically.
“I wasn’t fine! I knew that whatever you were going through, you were still dealing with. I knew that you needed my comfort, and that what I needed could wait. I compromised, that’s what a marriage is about. Now it’s your turn!” I shoot back.
He ignores me, grabbing his shirt off of the bed and putting it on.
“I know that whatever it was, it wasn’t about work. I want to know what it is,” I say, walking behind him. He’s ignoring me, pulling his shoes out from under the bed and putting them on. I see where this is going, so I quickly grab his keys off of the dresser. He laughs in frustration.
“How do you think that makes me feel, as your wife? That you cut me off completely just whenever you feel like it? That whatever happened, you won’t even tell me; what am I supposed to think?”
“You’re never satisfied. Every single day it’s something. When I’m not here, I’m a jerk who doesn’t spend time with you, but when I am here it’s not long enough, and when I’m here long enough, I’m not telling you every fucking detail on my mind?” he snarls as he finishes tying his shoes.
“That’s not what this is, and you know it! What is going on?” I shout, feeling my throat starting to burn. “I should have done this a long time ago. I trust you with my life, Cal, and I’ve gotten nothing in return. I’ve tried waiting and waiting, trying to earn your trust. I fight with you to try to break down this emotional wall between us and nothing has worked, so tonight is the last night I’m going to wonder where you are, who you’re with, or whatever it is...”
“You want it all out? Okay, let me tell you, Lauren,” he yells sharply, interrupting me. “When I first met you, this was how I was. This is how I am, and I’m going to be like this tomorrow. You knew this when you met me! You accepted it then. I never promised you anything different. You’re the one turning shit around. I’ve never lied to you! I tell you wha
t you need to know. I’m not cheating on you. There is no other woman, and that’s all you need to know!”
“You think I’m going to accept that?”
“Why not? Why do you focus on shit that isn’t important? What’s important is I am here! At the end of the day, all other bullshit aside, I’m-here-with-you!” he yells.
“Because I’m your wife, Cal! I’m not a fucking pet,” I shout back at him in disbelief. His hard frown softens, and he runs his hand through his hair. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. I guess he really doesn’t have to; what else can he say? He’s told me exactly how he feels, and I can’t deal with the fact that the man I’ve been so in love with, that I’ve compromised myself for, doesn’t love me enough to trust me.
“Get out, Cal,” I whisper.
“What?” he asks, as if he didn’t hear me.
“Get the hell out,” I growl.
“You’re kidding.” He lets out a light laugh. That sends me over the edge.
“Get out now! I can’t even look at you anymore!” I yell so loud that I surprise myself.
“Lauren, what the fuck is your problem?” he shouts back.
“Cal, I swear to God, if you don’t leave right now—”
He looks at me as if I’m speaking a different language, and I hear a knock at the door.
“Is everything okay in there?” Raven asks urgently on the other side of the door.
“Is it, Lauren?” His tone sounds dangerously like an ultimatum, but today is the wrong day for him to go there with me.
“It will be when you leave,” I say looking him straight in the eye.
“Lauren, Cal, open the door please!” her knocks turning into pounds. I step back as Cal walks toward me, stopping only inches away.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to fix it because next time you tell me to leave, I’m not coming back,” he whispers coldly in my ear.
“If it’s that simple for you, maybe you shouldn’t.” I hold the keys out and drop them. He’s quick, though—he neatly snags them out of the air before they hit the ground. He licks his lips and smiles, then grabs his jacket and opens the door. Raven walks in, glancing back and forth between both of us. Cal stares back at me with a smirk on his face. I can’t look at either one of them. I wrap my arms around myself and stare out the window.
“See you, Raven,” I hear him say quietly.
“Goodbye, Cal,” I hear her say, and she walks toward me slowly.
“Lauren?” she says quietly.
“Raven, I don’t want to talk right now,” I say in the most polite tone I can muster.
“Lauren, you can t—” she tries to urge before I cut her off.
“Not now,” I plead with her, heading to the bed.
“O-okay, sweetie. When you’re ready to talk, you know where I am.”
I nod, watching through the window as the Porsche pulls away.
October 2nd 2008
I play with my fingertips as I feel the elevator take off. It’s a nervous habit, and I haven’t been this nervous since I was in high school.
“Don’t be nervous,” Cal says wrapping his arms around me.
“That’s easy for you to say. Here I am about to meet two of the most important people in your life, and oh—by the way—they own most of everything in Chicago,” I whine, resting my head on his chest. It’s been almost six months since my whirlwind romance with Cal began, and he’s still a mystery to me. I think this is a pretty big step in unraveling that mystery .
“Just pretend they couldn’t buy and sell your soul if they wanted,” he jokes.
“Oh, that makes me feel much more comfortable.”
“Don’t worry; they’ll love you. Just be yourself,” Cal nibbles on my ear, making me forget about my problem for a micro-second. I pull away from him as the doors of the elevator open.
“Come on.” He takes my hand, leading the way out. I inhale deeply and follow him. Then my jaw drops as I see the huge hall that stretches before us.
“See? It’s just like a museum,” he winks, leading me down the empty corridor. In amazement, my eyes follow the paintings that line the walls. Each one is framed in what, I assume, is gold. I mean, why skimp on the frame when you can afford the masterpiece? I’m pulled out of my trance as I hear Mozart’s Symphony #40, coming from the grand piano in the middle of the room, being played as easy as if it’s a game of cards. Large, ornate double doors are partly open on the left, and we walk into an impressive parlor.
“Trying to show off again, Dex?” Cal interrupts the musician, announcing our arrival.
“You actually showed up on time? What’s the occasion?” the man says, getting up from the piano. His eyes skim past Cal and land on me.
“Miss Brooks, I presume,” he smiles knowingly. I swallow my nerves. He’s a smaller man—maybe 5”6, a little taller than me with brown, almond-shaped eyes and brown hair; but for some reason, his presence intimidates me.
“Yes, I’m Lauren,” I say awkwardly. I have no idea what’s appropriate, so I just hold out my hand.
“I’m Dexter Crest Field,” he replies, taking my hand, and to my surprise he brings it to his lips for a kiss. I can’t help but giggle.
“Nice to meet you,” I finally get out. Dexter Crest Field Jr., the man whose father is the richest man in the Midwest. I just read an article in the paper about him, for God’s sake for a class.
“Your home is beautiful. As if you don’t know that,” I say, like an idiot, and step closer to Cal.
“I’ll give my decorator your compliments.” He walks over to the bar area and pulls down a couple of rocks glasses. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” I feel like I need to let my nerves settle before I try to hold something breakable in my hands.
“Where’s Helen?” Cal asks, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair beside him as if he’s at home. He gestures for me to sit next to him on the massive sectional sofa.
“She’s around somewhere,” Dexter replies, pouring what I assume is scotch into a glass.
“So, Lauren, Cal tells me you’re an artist,” Dexter says, taking a seat next to us.
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m an art student,” I say modestly.
“She’s an artist; I’ve seen her work.” Cal gets back up, walks over to an oddly placed pool table, and begins racking the balls.
“I’d always wanted to be an artist until I found out I lacked the patience,” Dexter says. I see him look over, irritated at the noise Cal is making. “So, in one word, how would you describe Cal?” Dexter asks suddenly.
I’m a little caught off guard. “Umm. Cal is unique.” Unique? Where did that come from?
“I’ve never been called unique before,” Cal laughs, resting on the pool table.
“I think that’s the most honest flattering description I’ve heard about him,” Dexter laughs. “I like you already.” His expression softens for the first time since I’ve met him. My nerves start to subside Dexter seems pretty cool. I should have known Cal wouldn’t hang out with people with sticks in their asses, even if he is his boss.
“Too bad; she’s mine.” Cal walks back over behind me on the couch and leans over to wrap his arms around me. His lips touch my neck, and I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Yes, you’ll have to settle for me,” A beautiful tall brunette woman comes in with a bag that distinctively says Harry Winston, and she tosses it to Dexter as if it was from Wal-Mart.
“How much is this going to cost me?” He looks up at the woman curiously.
“Nothing you can’t afford,” she retorts, then casually sits across his lap and pecks him on the lips. Her attention turns to Cal and me for the first time.
“You’re on time,” she tells Cal sarcastically.
“I’m not late that much,” he defends himself.
“No, you just never show up when you say you are,” she retorts with a smile.
She turns her atte
ntion to me. “You must be Lauren,” she says. Her eyes survey me as women usually do. She leaves Dexter’s lap and offers her hand.
“I’m Helen, Dexter’s wife,” she explains as we shake hands.
“Very nice to meet you,” I reply.
“So, has Cal been behaving himself?” she asks, giving Cal a faux warning look.
“I’m always on my best behavior.”
“Of course you are.”
“So, what’s the plan for the evening?” Dexter breaks into the exchange.
“Well, I made a reservation for Luc to come and serve dinner at 8,” Helen says with a toss of her hair. “Which is perfect since you and Cal should be back by then.”
I see Cal shoot her a warning look.
“You’re leaving?” I ask him tightly. He has said nothing about leaving me here alone. Helen seems nice and all, but the whole reason I did this was to finally meet the people closest to him beside clients for his job. I didn’t want to just be dumped on his best friends wife. I look behind me to see him standing there with his hands in his pockets. The tension in the room goes up a notch.
“Helen, how about you come show me what else you bought because I know this isn’t all of it,” Dexter says, excusing him and Helen. When they’ve disappeared from the room, I stand up to face Cal. He walks over toward me but I look away from him. This was not part of my plan for the evening. His arms wrap tightly around my waist pulling me against him
“I won’t be gone that long,” he promises caressing my back which always distracts me from what he’s saying. “It’ll give you and Helen some time to get to know each other,” he says slipping his hand under my blouse. I step away from him. I’m can feel my temperature rising, and by that sly grin on his face, I see that he can too. He puts his fingers through belt loop on my pants and pulls me back toward him our chests collide.
