From A Distance

by L. M. Carr

  My shift at work begins and ends in the same mundane way. Nothing exciting ever happens around here. When I arrive home early Monday morning, Alex is sound asleep in our bed. I know he’s going to be getting up soon for work even though he’s probably not gotten much rest over the weekend. Between the hours racing at the track and the eight-hour drive, exhausted is an understatement.

  I shower quickly and crawl into bed next to him. His body, kept fit and firm from Crossfit, is spread out, inviting my fingers to touch it. He stirs at my gentle touch.

  “Good morning!” I whisper, leaning in and nestling into his neck. I inhale his masculine scent mingled with a hint of cologne. “I missed you.” My hand travels lower, trailing lightly along his abdomen.

  “Hey, babe. Good morning yourself.” He cocks one eye open and then the other. “How was your weekend?” His arms reach upward and cross behind his head as if he’s enjoying the feel of my touch.

  “Same as always. Odessa’s back.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “How was the race?”

  “Awesome! I went pretty fast, but Ty went 6.60 in the quarter mile.”

  I plaster on a fake smile at the mention of Tyler’s name as I try to give my husband a hand job. I should’ve waited until he was done rambling on and on about the race and how they’re going back down in two weeks because his morning erection wanes in my hand.

  “Two weeks?” I shriek, squeezing him hard.

  His hand covers mine and pries my curled fingers, wordlessly asking I release him. “Whoa, easy. What’s the big deal?”

  I jump to my knees, my eyes now huge circles of shock. “You’re going racing in two weeks?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  Throwing my hands up into the air, I yell, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe it’s just our anniversary or something. No big deal!”

  I spring from the bed, stomp into the bathroom and slam the door shut, locking it quickly. I lean over the vanity and stare at myself in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is not happy.

  “Open the door, Karrie.”

  “No!”

  “Karrie,” he enunciates my name slowly, “I said open the door.”

  Like a sullen child, I drag my feet and unlock the door. He’s standing there naked with his arms outstretched on the door frame. He tips his head to the side and gives me a sympathetic look. “I didn’t realize the date.”

  I exhale a deep sigh of relief and step into his arms. “Thank you.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

  “What?” I gasp loudly as my palms flatten against his chest and I shove him away. “You’re still going? It’s our anniversary for God’s sake!”

  “Babe, I have to go. Ty’s already qualified. People are coming from all over the country for this race. The grand prize is twenty-five thousand.”

  I stare in disbelief at my husband. Brushing past him, I yank open a drawer and slip on a pair of cotton underwear then trudge over to the closet, pulling on a green sundress sans bra and a pair of sandals. I head back over to the drawer, find a pair of matching blue scrubs and shove them along with black Crocs into my backpack.

  “Where are you going? It’s seven-thirty in the morning?”

  I think quickly and spit out a lie. “I’m meeting my parents for breakfast.”

  “It’s Monday morning. Your parents are at the country club for their early morning tee time,” he deadpans as he moves about the room getting dressed for work, pulling on a pair of work pants.

  “Well,” I stammer as my voice cracks, “I have some errands to run and then I’m meeting them.”

  Alex strides across the room and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. He smooths my long hair back away from my face and searches my eyes.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asks as a grin appears. “Are you getting your period? You’ve been acting like a real bitch lately.”

  I sniffle and wipe my nose as my lips spread into a small smile at his use of the teasing yet vulgar sentiment. I exhale a deep breath. “No. I just feel like you’re never home. I hate that you travel all the time for motorcycle racing. It’s a hobby not a job!”

  “Come with me then.”

  I smirk. “You know I don’t like going to the track anymore. All I do is stand around all day and watch you go down the track for less than ten seconds. That’s not exactly fun.”

  “Ten seconds?” he quips. “I go way faster than 10-0.”

  I slap his bare chest. “You know what I mean.”

  “You should come and meet some of the other girls.”

  “If by ‘girls’ you mean ‘Bike Bitches’, no thanks. I’m all set.”

  He laughs.

  “They’re not so bad.”

  “Whatever.” I narrow my eyes at his attempted humor.

  “I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go away for a weekend. Pick an island—any island and we’ll go.”

  “Really? It’s been so long since we’ve had a real vacation.”

  “I know it. I think the last real one was in the Bahamas when we rented a scooter and drove all around the island.” We had just started dating when he surprised me with the trip.

  I nod in remembrance.

  “And if I remember correctly, it was you who suggested I get a bike for us to ride on Sunday afternoons.”

  I nod again, mentally chastising myself for opening that can of worms.

  “I’ve got to get going, but I won’t be home too late tonight. I’ve got to help Ty unload the bikes and change the oil.”

  “I have a painting class tonight with Pam.”

  “What’s she been up to?”

  I detect the change of tone in his voice even though he tries to hide it.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  Pam Cooke has been my friend for the longest time and she, like my mother, wasn’t convinced I should’ve married Alex. Not only was she concerned about our age difference, but she didn’t like the way he wanted to control my life from what I could wear right down to the friends I should have. I chalked it up to being young and naïve, but I’ve since reacquainted with most of my friends and wear what I want.

  Alex pulls on his work shirt and laces up his boots before answering his ringing phone.

  “Good morning,” he whispers into the phone before glancing back quickly and smiling tightly. Continuing his quiet conversation, he trots down the stairs and out of the house. I can’t imagine why Tyler is calling so early; he’ll see him shortly at work.

  I hate Tyler Strong.

  ***

  AFTER MEETING MY parents for a late breakfast, I drive over to the local clinic where I volunteer a few times a month. It’s a sad place in which most people who receive free health care and free medications come. Most of the doctors and nurses are pretty good, but we do get the occasional self-righteous doctor who thinks he’s better than everyone else even if he graduated at the bottom of the class. We usually send the patients with really bad hygiene to him.

  Turning the knob on the door with one hand as I reach for the medical chart, I walk into the small room, laughing sarcastically at Owen’s off-colored attempt at humor. Owen is the resident jerk doctor for the next six months.

  I freeze when I notice a small woman sitting on the table with Tyler standing by her side.

  “Tyler!” My eyes widen, revealing my surprise and shock. “What are you doing here?” I look at the woman who has red, puffy eyes. A small hiccup escapes from her throat.

  “Karrie,” he starts nervously, “um…she,” he stammers, “she needs to see a doctor.”

  I clear my throat and pull my gaze away from his bluish-green eyes. I’ve never really been in this close proximity to him before except for at my wedding reception. I don’t understand the emotion running through my veins.

  “I see.” I glance away as my cheeks flush pink. “So why don’t you start by telling me what’s going
on.” I smile kindly at the woman who now has her face buried in her hands.

  “She thinks she’s pregnant.”

  My eyes flash in his direction as a scowl spreads across my face. Of course, Tyler Strong got someone pregnant. How irresponsible!

  “I think she can answer for herself.”

  He huffs loudly and shakes his head. I lock eyes with him as I wheel the machine over to check her vitals.

  “Your chart has your name as Penelope. Do you go by Penny?”

  “Yeah, only my granddad and my sister Rachel call me Penelope. I hate it.”

  “I understand. People always misspell my name and I hate it.”

  She lifts her arm, allowing me to slide the cuff around her thin bicep. I smile and apologize for my cold hands even though it’s ninety degrees out.

  “You know what they say, ‘Cold hands, warm heart.’ ”

  “You’re fine. Thank you.” A sweet southern drawl tinges her words. She offers a crooked grin.

  “I love your accent! Where are you from?” I ask with a smile after removing the cuff.

  “I’m from Kentucky originally, but I moved to Virginia last year.”

  “Oh wow! My husband races motorcycles down there.”

  “Can we get a doctor to see her now? She needs a doctor,” Tyler interjects. His body is rigid as if he wants to be anywhere but here.

  I stare at him, noticing that he swallows hard and shakes his head briefly as he shifts his weight from side to side

  “Please,” he adds.

  I am a nurse. Be professional. Set aside personal feelings. I repeat the words continuously in my head to calm down.

  “Let’s have you give me a urine sample. We can do the pregnancy test and then you can see a doctor.” I open the cabinet door and take out a plastic cup before looking back at Tyler with malice in my eyes. “That’s how we do things around here.”

  “Thank you.” Penny hops down and stands. Her cami is tight around her thin body, her plump boobs displaying ample cleavage. Denim cut off shorts and flip flops make her look as young as a college kid. I remember Alex got so much flack for dating me. His friends liked to tease that I was still in diapers when he was in high school. I guess Tyler likes them young, too.

  “The bathroom is around the corner to the right.” I hold the door open for her just as Tyler calls my name. I turn slowly to address him.

  “What?”

  “If she is pregnant, please don’t say anything to anyone. Especially not Alex.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Don’t worry Tyler. Your little secret is safe with me.”

  “What—”

  I close the door behind me and wait for Penny. After confirming her pregnancy, I send Owen in to talk to the less than happy couple. From behind the sliding glass window, I sit and watch Tyler wrap his arms around her shoulders and lead her to his truck. Poor girl! If Penny is smart, she’ll leave and put as much distance between them as she possibly can.

  When my shift ends at the clinic, I send Alex a text, letting him know I’m going to be stopping by his job site. Getting the contract for one hundred twenty-five homes in an assisted living complex was huge and is proving to be quite profitable. He’s been so busy, working late into the night and even some weekends. Just to ensure he’d be finished by the anticipated completion date, Alex has even hired a few new electricians.

  A.P. Electric is my husband’s baby; it’s the company he built from the ground up.

  I drive slowly over the broken road which has yet to be paved and spot Alex’s work truck and two other vans parked haphazardly in the dirt. I squeeze my car into a small space beneath a large tree. Carrying a large, brown paper bag inside a plastic one, I carefully step over the piles of rubble and enter the dwelling through the garage. I follow the sound of music playing.

  Tyler, standing on the top rung of a ladder, is the first person I see. His arms reach high above his head as he installs electrical wires in the ceiling. My eyes follow the length of his body from his dexterous fingers down to his tanned neck before lingering on the hem of his T-shirt that is now riding up, showing the hard planes of his abs.

  “Karrie!” he calls. “What are you doing here?”

  My traitorous eyes snap up to his face and my voice cracks.

  “What?”

  “What are you doing here?” he asks as he descends the ladder. “Does Alex know you’re here?”

  I drop my eyes to my painted toenails for a second before speaking. “I texted him and told him I was stopping by.” I glance around the room. “Where is he? Is he working upstairs?” My feet turn and begin to move toward the unfinished, natural wood staircase, ready to bolt away from the uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my belly.

  Tyler blinks rapidly. “Um,” he mumbles as he scratches the back of his head. “He had to go look at another job.” Rushed words fly out of his mouth.

  “Another job? That’s odd. I thought he said he’d be on this one job site for months.”

  With an unknown look filling his eyes, Tyler shrugs and says that Alex shouldn’t be much longer. He looks around and finds an empty five-gallon bucket. Flipping it over, he brushes off the sand and white dusty residue and sets it down. “Here you go. Best seat in the house.”

  I can’t help but smile as I look around the skeleton of someone’s home. Wood beams, unpainted sheetrock, scraps of wood and rolls of electrical wires fill the vast room.

  “That’s okay. I’ll wait outside.”

  If I weren’t speaking to Tyler Strong, I might actually appreciate the kindness, the tenderness in his voice, but I can’t. Just because he offers a seat doesn’t negate how rude and standoffish he’s been to me throughout the years.

  “You sure?” He cocks his head to the side, narrows his eyes and then grins. In that moment, I see the appeal he has with women. I can see why they fall at his feet and worship…whatever it is they worship.

  “I’m sure.” I set the bag on the bucket, balancing it carefully. “There are sandwiches and cold drinks in here.”

  Tyler nods and utters a word of thanks.

  As I set out to leave, I hear him call my name softly. I stop and turn to face him.

  “Thank you for today. She’s young and scared. I don’t think she knows what she’s gotten herself into,” he mumbles quietly.

  I sigh at the man staring at me and am suddenly overcome with raw emotion. I blink quickly to ward off the threatening tears. The regret etched on his face is clear; he doesn’t want this child. He isn’t ready to become a father. I’ve seen this look a thousand times on the faces of young men and women who’ve come into the clinic. Many of them opt to keep their child while others immediately ask about abortion.

  “How old is she?” I ask quietly as my eyes drop to the floor.

  “Who?”

  After a quick shake of my head to rid myself of annoyance, I pinch my lips and look at Tyler.

  “Penny...your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Jackass. “How old is she anyway?”

  “Uh…I’m not sure.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

  I suppress the feeling of animosity because he doesn’t even have the decency to care about her age. I guess it’s not something you ask when you’re rolling around under the covers with a different girl every night of the week. “And how old are you?” I don’t know why I ask.

  “Same as you.” A crooked smile tugs on his lips, creating a somewhat boyish appearance.

  I nod thoughtfully as an awkward silence fills the room. I always assumed Tyler was older than me because he’s so close to Alex. Needing something to do with my hands, I run my fingers through my hair and pull at the long strands, avoiding his gaze. Finally, I release a heavy sigh, raise my chin and face him head on.

  “Well, I guess you and Penny have a decision to make.”

  He looks at me with a combination of confusion and sympathy as he shakes his head and scoffs.
/>   “It’s not my decision.”

  Anger builds within me at his callus words, at his irresponsibility, at his lack of accountability.

  Annoyed, I clench my teeth, shake my head and toss him a filthy look before I spin around and start walking to my car.

  “Karrie,” Tyler whispers, calling me once again.

  I stop dead in my tracks but don’t turn around this time.

  “What, Tyler?”

  I can hear him coming closer as he clears his throat. “It was nice talking to you.”

  It was nice talking to me? Is he insane? I hardly think talking to me about his pregnant girlfriend qualifies as a normal conversation. I don’t respond, the words evading me as I take a step further away from my husband’s friend.

  “And Karrie.”

  I stop.

  “Thanks for lunch. That was really nice of you to do. Very thoughtful.”

  I want to reply and tell him I didn’t do it for him, but I don’t.

  I continue walking until I reach my car, completely baffled by the man inside. The man who has never been anything but distant and cold to me over the years. The man who chooses to wait in the garage rather than come inside if my husband hasn’t gotten home yet. The man who comes to our summer picnics and Christmas parties but always has a poor excuse of why he can’t stay very long.

  A sigh escapes me just before a small chuckle emerges when a silly thought flits across my mind, wondering if he got hit in the head with a two-by-four or maybe he crossed the wrong wires and got zapped by electricity.

  Whatever it was, it was strange. I open the car door and drop myself into the driver’s seat and text Alex to let him know that I’ll wait for another few minutes. The summer heat beats down on my car, driving the temperature upwards into what feels like the hundreds; not even the slight breeze coming in through the windows offers reprieve. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I blink lazily as I yawn. Once. Twice. Three times. My eyelids close for good.

  I awaken a short time later and sit up quickly, disoriented and worried that I missed Alex. I scrub my face with my palms and survey the property around me, scanning the new construction until my sights land on a figure in the window on the second floor. I wipe my eyes then blink quickly, bringing my blurred vision into focus. After glancing around hoping to find Alex’s work van, I exhale a deep breath and check my phone for a text message. Nothing. No truck. No message.