by Portia Moore
“Open it up, the second page. You’ll see what I’m talking about,” I roll my eyes and open it, scanning the page. My eyes land on a picture that makes my heart stop. There’s a picture of Cal with an older man. I read the caption under it:
Former Madison High alum Chris Scott poses with his father William Scott after annual pie eating contest.
“Hillary, what the hell is this?” My voice is trembling, eyes glued to the picture.
“Lauren, what is it?” Angela asks, her voice filled with worry.
“I asked my aunt about him; he played football against her son, he was pretty good. His mom’s name is Gwen; they met through some sport fundraisers,” Hillary reveals quietly.
“No…” I say, slowly shaking my head defiantly.
“No! This isn’t him! It can’t be!” I yell at her, throwing the paper down. Angela grabs it and I watch her face drop.
“Lauren, pictures don’t lie! He’s been lying to you this entire time! Now do you understand why I’m so angry and frustrated with you? I’m trying to help you! He’s not who he says he is!” Hillary urges, but the anger from her expression has dissipated.
I feel as if I’m going to throw up.
“Tell her, Angie! Is that Cal or not?” Hillary screams, taking the picture and shoving it in front of Angela’s eyes.
I very slowly and carefully sit down on the floor.
It can’t be him. It wouldn’t make sense. Cal wouldn’t be in some small-town pie eating contest.
“Lauren, this looks a lot like him,” Angela says quietly.
“Looks? That is him!” Hillary screeches.
Angela sits down in front of me. “Lauren, you said Cal was adopted. Maybe that’s his brother, his twin brother...,”she tries to reason.
“A biological twin brother that he never mentioned with the same last name as his adopted parents? Give me a break, he’s a con. He’s living a double life,” Hillary says with a frustrated groan.
“Hillary, shut up for a minute!” Angela yells. I start to feel dizzy and hot, my vision blurring for a few seconds and clearing.
“I need… I need some water,” I say getting up and making my way to the kitchen.
“Lauren, are you okay?” Angela asks, grabbing my shoulder. Her voice. Their voices are so loud, pounding in my ears, and when I turn around, her face becomes blurry. I feel off balance and fall. Angela grabs me before I completely hit the floor.
“Hillary, get her some water!” she shouts. “Lauren, listen to me, you hear my voice?” she takes the newspaper and begins to fan my face.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong with her?”
“I think she’s in shock, that’s all,” I hear their voices, but I can’t even tell them apart. I feel as if I’m drunk. I’m trying to wrap my mind around what I’ve just seen. It looked like him, the article even used his last name… but it can’t be. It just wouldn’t make sense. His name isn’t Chris!
“Lauren, say something sweetie. You’re scaring us,” Hillary says, her voice full of regret, putting the cup of water in my hand. When I lift it to my lips and take a drink, they both let out a sigh of relief.
“ I’m such a bitch. I shouldn’t have told you this way,” Hillary scolds herself. “I just couldn’t stand watching you care for this jerk.”
“You should have told me as soon as you found out,” I say in a whisper sitting the glass down. They’re both looking at me as if I’m dying. I cover my face.
“Let me see the paper again,” I mumble, willing myself not to cry.
Angela looks skeptical, but hands it to me. I look at the picture again, his face…he’s smiling widely, holding a trophy with the older man next to him. He looks so happy, and different. This person has his face and even his last name, but there’s something different. I just can’t figure it out. If this is him, everything he’s told me has been a lie. I’ve been an idiot sitting around thinking that he’s in some kind of trouble, but why there? Why in some little county that can’t be bigger than my own hometown. I expected Cal to be in New York or LA or even some foreign city, not there. And he told me he and his parents were estranged. This doesn’t add up. I need answers now!
I stand up and look at them both. They look so worried. I slip on my nearby flip flops and grab my keys.
“I need one of you to stay here and let Raven know what’s going on,” I say, going to the closet and grabbing a coat.
“Where are you going?” Angela asks worriedly.
“To see the one person who can give me some answers,” I tell them before heading out the door.
***
“Hi, Lauren! What are you doing here?” Helen asks, looking surprised as she welcomes me in, though I know security has informed them of my presence. “What’s wrong?” she asks, noticing my expression.
“Where’s Dexter?” I demand
“He’s… he’s in his office. Lauren, what’s wrong?” She asks again, concerned, as I storm down the hall to where Dex’s office is. I knock two hard times before going in. Dexter looks up from the phone conversation he’s having, a mixture of surprise and irritation on his face.
“I’ll have to call you back,” he mumbles into the phone before hanging up. “Lauren, this is a surprise,” He stands and moves to come around the desk to hug me. “ How are you? Helen told me what you said, and I’m really glad that-” He stops short as he watches me struggle to pull the newspaper out of my purse.
“You want to explain this to me!” I slam the newspaper on his desk. He looks at it curiously and then picks it up. A wave of emotions cross his face; I see shock, recognition, and then—yep, there it is!—guilt. After a moment he glances at me, and for once, it looks like he is speechless.
“He favors Cal,” he begins, placing a fake grin on his face. I can’t believe how he can lie to me like this.
“Bullshit!” I yell. He blinks, unfazed. Helen, however, looks as if she’s a deer caught in headlights.
“Now I’m going to sit here all day if I have to, but you’re going to tell me something, or I swear to God, I’ll walk out of this office and disappear off the face of the earth and you or Cal won’t be able to find me or Caylen ever again, regardless of how much money you have. So you think carefully before you open your mouth to lie to me,” I growl.
“What the hell is Cal doing in Madison?” Helen asks, confused. Dexter doesn’t answer. “Answer me!” Helen demands angrily.
“Helen, you have nothing to do with this,” he tells her sternly.
“I’m your wife, and not only your wife, but her friend. She deserves to know whatever it is you know!” Helen growls.
“Helen leave!” he orders sharply.
“No Dex! This is beyond being loyal to him. You tell her something, or she won’t be the only one leaving!” Helen says in a low vicious tone that makes my skin crawl.
Dexter stares her down as if she’s bluffing, but she stands her ground, and a moment later, he walks back to his chair and sits down.
“What do you want to know, Lauren?” Dex asks me calmly.
“Is that Cal?” I ask pleadingly. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes give it away. I feel my heart start to beat.
“What is he doing? Why is he there?” I wait for an answer, and he doesn’t give me one.
“Dex,” Helen says curtly.
“Maybe he likes the pie,” Dex mumbles.
I can’t believe him; he has the nerve to be joking about this! “Why does that article say his name is Chris?” I demand, feeling my eyes water in frustration.
“Because that’s who it is,” Dex says quietly.
I look at Helen who looks as confused as I am. “You know it’s Cal. I know it’s him, so why won’t you just tell me the damn truth?” I scream desperately.
“It’s complicated,” he says sharply.
“Then explain!” I yell as my tears start to blur my vision.
“It’s not my place to tell you,” he says pointedly.
“It’s not your place to ke
ep secrets from me. All I want to know is what you know!” I plead with him, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“All of this time, all of this time you’ve known. I went through having Caylen alone, crying night after night, worried about him, sitting around like an idiot, and you knew! You’ve known the whole time, and you still won’t tell me even when I have his damn picture in front of you!” I scream.
“I can’t help you, Lauren. I’m sorry,” he says in a low tone.
“I thought he left me, for some divine reason to protect me, and it was all a lie. He’s been in Madison using some false name. It says he went to high school there, for God’s sake. Cal told me he grew up in Chicago!” I scream. I start to feel dizzy again, my emotions are getting to me.
“You don’t understand; that's my point!” Dexter says hesitantly.
“No, I understand completely. I’m done asking you questions that you obviously aren’t going to answer. You aren’t who I should be talking to anyway,” I look over at Helen who looks as if she’s trying to maintain her calm even though her nerves are on edge.
“His address? That’s all I want from you. I at least deserve that,” I say, exhausted from all this drama.
“I can’t give it to you because Cal isn’t in Madison,” he says adamantly.
“All I want is the address to where he is!” I manage to shout with the anger left in me.
“Dex, tell her!” Helen yells.
“I can’t! The person she’s going to look for isn’t going to be there!” Dexter roars.
“Then I’ll find him myself.” Madison is about the same size as Saginaw; I can find him in a week’s time.
“Lauren, I’m asking you not to go. Give me more time…”he says, standing from his seat.
“How dare you?” I spit. “How dare you not tell me anything about where he is, and ask me not to look for him!” I say angrily.
“It’s not what you think!” he yells.
“Then tell her!” Helen roars back. For once, I see Helen challenge Dex, going against everything she advised me during one of our first conversations about living with our men’s secrets. It’s about damn time!
“You don’t know what I think! And if you’ve listened to anything I’ve said you’d know that things can’t get any worse!” I shout. I then turn my attention to Helen, who looks as if she’s ready to march out the door and go search with me.
“Bye,” I say before my voice breaks. I wave slightly at her before I leave his office, but she’s following right behind me.
“Lauren!” Dexter calls.
I stop in my tracks.
“He never meant for it to be this way. He really did try,” he says before disappearing back into his office.
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask, letting out an exhausted and frustrated groan. I’ve never felt so completely drained.
“Dex speaks in riddles a lot, but you listen to me,” Helen says, taking me by my shoulders. “I’m going to find out where he is. He’s going to tell me something before the night is over, and when I know, you’re the first one I’m calling,” she says opening the door.
“Call my cell, I won’t be at home I’m going Madison,” I tell her, heading to the elevators.
She follows me out. “Now?” she asks her voiced raised in disbelief.
I hit the button for the elevator to come. “I’ve been sitting around doing nothing for too long. Now there’s no excuse, I know where he is, and I’m not going to wait until he has the chance to go hide somewhere else,” I tell her impatiently.
“W-what about Caylen? Where is she? You just can’t leave her.”
“Caylen is with Raven; she’s in the best of hands. I’m going to call them on my way. I’m not just doing this for myself. My little girl is not going to grow up without her dad if she doesn’t have to. If Cal doesn’t owe me anything, he owes her everything!” I say, sharper than I intend to.
Helen looks down, guilty. “Give me a day, even if Dex doesn’t tell me, I’ll hire a private investigator. You can’t do anything if you don’t know where he is,” she pleads.
The bell dings and the elevator doors open. I sigh in frustration and walk in. “You think I haven’t done that? If it was the other way around and you were in my situation would you waste another second?”
“I’m not trying to stop you, Lauren I-I just want to help,” she says, seemingly offended. Her eyes convey nothing but sincerity, but I always have to guess with her.
I take a deep breath; Helen is a mystery to me sometimes. One minute she’s this cool, confident, intimidating woman, and the next, she seems warm, genuine, and sincere. When I first met her, Cal warned me about her, but right now, his words aren’t holding too much weight with me. I don’t have time to figure out what her motives are anymore, and I really don’t care if she’s on Dexter’s side or mine of if she has her own agenda in this for that matter, because I have my own.
“If you want to help me, Helen,” I push the button for the elevator to go down. “Get me an address,” I tell her simply before the doors close. I’m done living in the midst of questions. If I have to knock on every door, drive down every street I’m not leaving until I find him; and when I do, I’m coming home with my husband or a divorce.
***
Four hours. That’s how long I drove. I had to stop and ask for directions twice due to my spur of the moment decision to take this trip and my gps going stupid. My cell phone has been ringing nonstop since I let my friends know about my decision to go to Madison alone. After driving so long, I’m starting to think they were right.
The wiser part of me wishes I would have waited a couple of days to let this sink in, to wait for a word from Helen, to at least pack some clothing. I’ve been pulled over on the side of the road, staring down the “Welcome to Madison” sign for at least thirty minutes. The pissed, angry and anxious part of me is ready to start randomly knocking on doors. To be honest that’s pretty much the only idea I have. I have absolutely no idea where Cal is, or if he even is still here. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I find him. What am I going to say? There are so many things I want to know, that I’ve never had answers for. The newspaper article just added more questions to the list. Until last night, when I heard him, I’ve tried to forget about him. I’ve tried so hard, but the fact that Caylen is his spitting image doesn’t help much.
When I first saw her, I cried. There was the happiness of seeing my child’s face, and a strange pleasure because I knew I’d never be able to forget her father. Every time I’d look at her he’d be staring back at me, mocking me and then there’s my promise to him…but he’s definitely broke some of his own.
I lean across the arm rest and open my glove compartment, pulling out the worn, stained envelope. I didn't even want it in my house. I open it up and take out my wedding band. I haven’t touched it in so long. The day I found out I was pregnant with Caylen. I took it off and sealed it in an envelope. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, but I couldn’t wear it either.
I think about his picture in the newspaper article again. How his expression seemed foreign, but even in the low quality picture his eyes drew me in.
I let out a sigh and look at the clock; it’s 4:30. Four and a half hours have gone by… another sigh. I take a deep breath once more and look at myself in the rear view mirror. The bags around my eyes can carry groceries. I look like I haven’t slept in days.
I pick up my phone and dial Helen’s number; I get the same message saying she’s not available now and to try back later. I hang up in frustration.
I don’t know anything about this town except our school played them in football once or twice. I don’t even know if Cal is here.
My phone rings again. This time, it’s Angela.
“Hi, Angie,” I sigh, watching a car speed by.
“Actually, it’s Hillary, I borrowed her cell since you won’t answer for me,” she says. I roll my eyes, still, livid about what happened earlier.
�
��Well, I didn’t answer for a reason,” I tell her candidly.
“Lauren, I said I’m sorry. I know I should have told you when I first found out, but I didn’t know how,” she blurts out quickly.
“Well, you sure figured it out today,” I retort sharply.
“You’re right. I was the biggest bitch in the world,” she says with a laugh. But it’s forced and she stops with a sigh.
“I just thought that you starting to see Steven would make things better for you. That you wouldn’t stay cooped up in the house with Caylen, and you would start being yourself again,”
“I’m sorry that things haven’t been like they were between us. That Angela and I seem closer but… It’s just that Angela saw me at one of the lowest
times in my life. So I don’t feel so exposed when I talk to her because she’s seen me at my worst. I just… I don’t know when I’ll break down, you know? I constantly feel vulnerable, and I hate myself for feeling that way. I’m embarrassed about it,” I frown at myself.
“I was mad at you today was because you were telling me the truth. The same thing that little voice in my head keeps telling me, but I stopped listening to that voice the day I met Cal,” I let out a small laugh wiping away the tears that are slipping from my eyes. I hear her laugh on the other end.
“Yep, that’s me! The big voice yelling at you that you can’t shut up.” It feels good to laugh.
“I need that voice sometimes,” I assure her.
“Yeah, well it works for me,” she says, giggling then clears her throat before speaking again.
“I called my aunt, the one I was telling you about who lives in Madison. I was trying to get her to give me Gwen Scott’s address,” she pauses as if waiting for me to respond. When I don’t, she continues.
“She badgered me about why I needed it and we argued. But in the end I just promised my cousin twenty five bucks for it when I see her,” she laughs, but my playful mood is completely gone. The mention of the Scotts makes my heart begin to pound.
“T-the woman who says she’s his mom?”
“Yeah… I figured if you were going to start looking somewhere, what better place than his parents’ house? Or the people who say they’re his parents…”
