Even though Mike believed it was the right thing for him to do, he never wanted you to find out about any of it. He referred to the box of letters as his Pandora’s box. If opened, all his lies would tumble out and crush your marriage. Knowing Mike, and you, as I did, I agreed. To guarantee my silence, Mike threatened to tell you what I never wanted you to know.
Kassie slammed the letter on the arm of the chaise, chasing Topher off and onto the waterbed. “You knew! All along! You knew! You kept all of it hidden. Karen, the kid, the money. To protect yourself? Bitch!” she screamed. She paged through the rest of the letter. “And there’s more?” She shook her head, her eyes filling, her hands trembling. She read on.
Which brings me to my biggest sin. I lied to you about how your father died. How could I explain suicide to a ten-year-old? We, that’s Uncle Dan and I, believed a sudden heart attack would be easier for you to understand and accept. There was no need for you to know your father’s schizophrenic mind convinced him he had a cancer that he never had, so he ended his life before he could become a burden on ours. Nonsensical, I know, but mental illness is elusive, and death in any form rarely makes sense, especially when it happens to those we love most. And because of my undying love for your father, I forgave him long ago, for leaving me and for leaving you, to survive on our own.
I’m begging you to forgive, as well.
Kassie reached for tissues on the small wooden table near the chair, almost knocking over the table, the wine glass, and the box of tissues. She didn’t take just one, but a handful. If that was her mother’s big reveal, it arrived forty years too late.
Who does she want me to forgive? My father or her?
She didn’t need to forgive her father. She’d done that on her own a long time ago. Though a mere child when he died, her sixth sense propelled her to walk to the nearest newspaper stand. His obituary began on the front page in the Boston papers. It’s news when a cop shoots himself. She didn’t understand why he took his own life or why her family told a different account of his death. Finally, she had the rest of the story. She could thank her mother for that at least. But forgive? Not so fast.
“Thank God, there’s only one more page.” She read on.
By now you’re asking why I didn’t come clean with you before I died? Isn’t that what most people do? Death bed confessions?
“Oh God, Mother, don’t be so dramatic.”
I’m sure you think I abandoned you. Just the opposite. All that I did, or didn’t do, was meant to protect you. Mike’s contempt for the truth and my fear of it bound us together with one common goal: to preserve your marriage.
You know our family history. We witnessed no strong, enduring male role models, with my father dying in the war, Matthew passing way too young, and you know the rest. I defended Mike because I believed your staying with him would get you to the happily-ever-after that my mother and I never achieved. I know now I was wrong.
So, I pray when you’re able to reflect on all that lies herein, you’ll be able to forgive, my darling KO.
Always,
Your loving Mother
P.S. Remember, divorce isn’t the only way to cut the ties that bind.
“Unbelievable! What the hell does that mean?” Mumbling her mother’s postscript, Kassie shivered and seethed as she lifted the long end of the chaise lounge, sliding it along the plush carpet to the bedroom doorway, scrawling a trail that looked like skid marks along the way. Flipping it on its side, she maneuvered it through the narrow doorway and dragged it down the hall. She reversed the process and managed to pull the chair into the bedroom she’d consider her sanctuary from then on when she stayed at the house.
Topher followed her, or was the chair the focus of his curious pursuit, pouncing on it as soon as Kassie had positioned it near the double window. He revved up his purring once she slung the afghan across the back of the chair, its rightful place as well as his.
Kassie grabbed her phone out of her pocket and sat on the edge of the chair so as not to disturb Topher who, with his head resting on his front white paws, had already drifted into la la land. Her first act was to prevent Mike from tracking her. She shook her head as she swiped through more than forty apps to locate Find Friends, stunned it had taken years for her to do this. Apparently he never cared enough to know where she was. Now was not the time to test that theory. There. Mike’s blocked.
Crap. Four o’clock already. Both Mike and Chris would still be at the office. She texted Chris, “Make room. I’m coming.”
Kassie grabbed a hair tie and pulled back her hair. She needed to get a move on and get out of there if only for a few days. She’d give Mike one of her often-used tall stories about a business trip. That should do it. Kassie figured she’d be back by Friday, if only to retrieve more of her belongings.
Or maybe by Friday she’ll have calmed down and stay awhile at the house. It all depended on Mike’s mood and whether she wanted to be around him day in and day out. For sure, she couldn’t move in with Chris for the long term, on that they’d already agreed, and she’d rather not impose on Annie if she didn’t have to. In her mind, the best scenario was still the original, well the second original, plan—live at home but separate from Mike and see Chris whenever she could.
To keep the illusion alive, after she’d packed a large suitcase, tote bag, and her briefcase, Kassie filled Topher’s multi-day food and water containers. She rifled through the kitchen desk and found a folder labeled, Household Instructions. She found Topher’s checklist on yellow paper stock. There were about a dozen copies paper clipped. She pulled one out and slapped a green Post-it note on it and wrote, “Mike, you know what to do. Be kind, he’s just an innocent kitty.” She placed the instructions and his pill bottle on the kitchen counter near the sink.
That reminded her. She took Mike’s three pill bottles and placed them on the kitchen table. “Mike, please don’t forget your meds.”
It was five-thirty by the digital clock in her Mercedes. She couldn’t remember how far ahead she’d set it when the government insisted the clocks move forward, but she felt sure Mike would hang around his beloved office for a while on his first day back. She put the car in reverse, pulled out, and pressed the remote, closing the door on the past.
Halfway down the driveway, she heard Mike’s car before she saw him in her rearview mirror.
Mike got out and approached the driver’s side window. Kassie clung to the steering wheel. He knocked on the glass. She stared ahead.
“Open the window.” Mike knocked harder.
A voice echoed in her head, recognizing it was her mother quoting Emily Dickinson: Saying nothing . . . sometimes says the Most.
36
Office Space Aliens
As Mike pulled into his parking spot at Ricci and Associates early Monday morning, he noticed a stranger get out of an SUV across the lot. Must be the new guy. What is his name?
“Christopher Gaines.” The new guy introduced himself and offered his hand to Mike.
“How do you do, son? Michael Ricci, but you can call me Mike.” He pal-patted Chris on his back as they entered the building.
“I’m just fine. You can call me Chris.”
“Well, good. You’ve been here for a few days, right? So I don’t have to show you around.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I was away last week, as you know. Need to catch up on a few things upstairs. I’ll grab you later this morning. Looking forward to getting to know you.”
“Sounds good.”
An hour later, Mike called an impromptu meeting of the staff. They gathered in the large conference room on the first floor that seated sixteen comfortably. Every chair was filled. No absentees when the boss was in. One after another, he received warm welcomes. “Good to see you, Mike. Glad you’re back. We missed you. The place isn’t the same without you.” Bullshit. Bullshit.
“Take a seat, though this won’t be long. Thought I’d bring the family together. It’s been awhile, right?�
�� Mike started as he witnessed head nods and heard affirmative murmurs.
“Wanted you to hear from me about my sudden visit to Boston Clinic a week ago. Well, I guess it’s just over a week ago now. Anyway, it all happened after I had a lovely dinner with Kassie on Holy Thursday. I must’ve eaten something bad because in the middle of the night I became quite ill. I won’t get into the gory details.”
“Thank you for that, boss,” Bill said. The room chuckled.
“To make a long story short, the good doctors at the Clinic invited me to take a mini vacation over Easter weekend at their fine institution, where they poked and prodded to their heart’s content. The highlight of the weekend . . .” Mike paused recalling his visitors. “Well, one highlight, Bill brought me cannolis.”
The team clapped and hoot-hooted. Bill gave Mike a thumbs- up. He wondered whether it was for the cannolis or Amelia. Didn’t matter. Sweet memories both.
“But I cannot tell a lie. Sorry, Bill, I didn’t eat them. I gifted them to the nurses who were desperately sad to be working on a holiday but grateful for my thoughtfulness.”
Bill first pouted, then chortled. “Sounds like you were a big hit with the ladies, as usual.”
Mike shook his head yes and grinned. “So, the result of all of that drama is that I have good news and bad news.”
“The bad news is that tests confirmed I have CKD, which means chronic kidney disease.” Mike paused to let that sink in.
Mike heard a voice at the far end of the room and all heads turned.
“Excuse me, Mike,” said Chris. “From research I’ve done on assignments on this topic, haven’t they made great strides in this area?”
“Ah, yes. That brings me to the good news. Chances are I’ll either start dialysis at some point or replace my bad kidney with a healthy one. You all shouldn’t worry though, Kassie and I . . .” Mike stopped, his thoughts wandered as he spun his wedding ring. “Kassie has been a rock through all of this. I am so lucky. She and I are exploring the options. Anyone interested in donating their kidney to a good cause?”
Mike watched as the members of his team shifted in their seats and looked sideways at one another.
“Just kidding. From what I recall, there’s no requirement for organ donation in your employment contract. At least not yet.” Mike tried to release the mood that had stiffened. It worked as he heard a distinct sigh from Bill and a few other colleagues.
“Now, for even better news. I’m assuming you’ve met the newest addition to our family, Christopher Gaines.” Mike motioned for Chris to stand. He did as he was told. “Christopher just demonstrated he’s not shy, not afraid to speak up. If his writing is half as compelling as his self-confidence, he’ll have a future here at Ricci and Associates.”
Everyone clapped, except Chris.
As the staff filed out of the conference room, Mike caught up with Chris and invited him to his office.
They settled in to chat on Mike’s two facing couches. Mike launched into a vivid backgrounder on the firm, how it’s grown over the years, and bragged about the Who’s Who of local and national clients they’d been honored to serve.
“I appreciate the opportunity to freelance here. A lot of my work on the West Coast was with tech companies, with some health care scattered here and there. Certainly Boston’s base is similar. I’m hoping to get exposure to other industries, financial services, education—”
“Speaking of, did you know we’re both Illini?” Mike pointed toward his University of Illinois diploma hanging on a wall near his desk.
“Yes, I think someone told me that. Small world.”
“Do you ever get back there?”
“To the school? No. To Illinois, yes. My parents still live there near Chicago. I visit them a couple of times a year.”
“As all good sons should.”
“I try. It’s the right thing to do.”
“So tell me, Christopher—”
“Chris is good.”
“Chris, if you were living on the West Coast, and your family’s in Chicago, what’s the attraction to Boston?”
“That’s easy. Opportunity. Who wouldn’t take advantage of living in Boston and working for as fine a company as yours? And if things don’t work out here as I hope they will, I can always go back to San Francisco.”
“Any family or friends here?”
“No family. I plan to look up some college buddies—”
“You must come over for dinner some time. My wife is quite the chef.” Mike stood and headed for the door; Chris followed.
They stopped near Mike’s desk.
“Is that your wife?” Chris walked behind the desk and picked up a picture.
“No, my sister in her younger days.” Mike chuckled.
“This is Kassie.” Mike handed the wedding picture to Chris. “Her younger days, too, but she’s still a hottie.”
Chris nodded. “What does she do?”
“She’s a marketer, like you and me. Works at a firm downtown. And she’s off today, the marathon goes right by her building. Too bad I couldn’t have introduced you two sooner, she could’ve taken you around town, shown you a good time.”
“Kids?”
Mike groaned. “Nope. It wasn’t in the cards. What about you? Married? Some sexy lady in your life?”
“No wife, no kids, that I know of.”
Mike slapped him on the arm as they both laughed.
“Who knows, the woman of my dreams might be right here. In Boston.” Chris handed the picture back to Mike.
“Is this your cat?” Chris touched the photo frame.
“He’s Kassie’s. Name’s Topher. She adopted him about five years ago. Pain in the ass. But she loves him.”
“I can see why. He’s a handsome dude.”
“Listen, Chris, here’s my first lesson.” Mike shifted from side to side as if he was dancing. “When you own your own company, display at least one picture of an animal, dog, cat, bird, iguana, doesn’t matter, even if it’s not yours. Clients love to talk about their pets. They’re great conversation starters.”
“I’ll take that under advisement. It worked on me.”
“Speaking of work, it’s time we both get to it.” Mike gave Chris a final welcome and pointed him toward the door.
Mike hunkered down in his office the rest of the day, eating the nutritionist-approved lunch Kassie had packed for him, catching up on the company’s financials, and kicking back for a nap that lasted until Bill knocked on the door, even though it was open.
“How you doing? Long day, your first day back—”
“I finally appreciate Kassie’s mother and her interior design expertise,” Mike said pressing on the cushions and plumping the pillows.
They sat a spell and reviewed the client list and staff assignments. Bill repeated his earlier sentiment that it was good to have Mike back in the office.
“Don’t mean to pry, Mike, how are things going with Kassie and her divorce craziness?”
“It’s okay, Bill, you’re not prying. Things aren’t great, but they could be worse. She claims the timing was off. She hadn’t meant for papers to be served when they were. Nevertheless, she’s going forward with it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish I were. Our marriage was in the toilet before I got sick . . . sicker. But a lot went down that weekend, and she’s pretty pissed at me. But, not to worry, I have a plan.”
“I knew you would.”
“I’m not insisting that she move out of the house. We are cohabiting.”
“How does that work?”
“We agreed to separate spaces and shared spaces. And one night last week she let me into her private space if you know what I mean,” Mike whispered and winked.
“You dirty dog. I always say the way to a woman’s heart is through her . . .” Bill grabbed his crotch.
“Hope so. But it’s just a start. And she’s gotten all involved with my diet. Shopping. Making my lunch as if I was back in school
. She’s taking care of me. In more ways than one. And I’m on my best behavior. I think over time she’ll come around. If she fell in love with me once, she could fall in love with me again.”
“Is that what you want? Or what you need?”
“What I need is a new kidney.” They both laughed.
“What do you think of Christopher, the new guy?”
“Getting up to speed fast. A quick learner. Smart, inquisitive, writes compelling, provocative copy. He’s friendly, outgoing, quite charming. Handsome. A ladies’ man, I suspect. The girls have been hanging around his cube, offering to show him the ropes. Oh, and there’s been a change in their attire in the last couple of days. Did you notice the skirts and heels this morning?”
“More cleavage showing, too. Even if it’s for him, we get to enjoy the eye-candy as well.”
“He reminds me of somebody I once knew,” Bill kidded.
“Who? You?”
“No, you, asshole.”
Leaving the office a bit earlier than he normally would, especially after being out a week, Mike dragged his body getting into his car that evening. His mind, though, was energized. Being back where he was boss was like an aphrodisiac. He connected his iPhone and pumped up the jazz station through Pandora so loud the cars on the highway surely felt the vibrations as he passed.
Mike smiled as the deep blue evening sky and crisp spring air aroused a scheme of how to replicate the night he and Kassie had sex. If she were already cooking dinner, he’d offer to help. Maybe set the table. He’d compliment her on how lovely she looked. Perhaps feign an interest in the cat. He’d be sure not to invade her space, but somehow make their shared space stress-free and engaging so much so she’d gravitate toward spending time with him. Mike wanted to show Kassie he could still be charming, like the new guy.
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