My Biggest Mistake

by Leddy Harper

  People came and went. Men tried to sit next to me for a while, but once I placed my head in my hands and began to cry, they stopped coming over. I was fine with that. I didn’t talk to any of them anyway. I didn’t want them. I wanted Donnie, but I couldn’t have him. And this was my last moment of weakness. He made his decision, and I had to go along with it.

  My bed was made…

  After a few shots, I began talking to people. I don’t remember who they were or what they looked like. I can’t even recall everything I’d said. I know I talked about Donnie and what I did to him and my family. I vaguely remember telling someone I loved him, but it very well could’ve been a thought that my drunken brain confused as reality. I’d never know.

  The bartender asked me a few times if I wanted him to call me a cab, but I declined his offer every time. And instead of the shots I had asked for, he brought me water. I didn’t complain because I was thirsty and in no mood to leave. The realization that I didn’t have a home to go to hit me hard, and it made me want to stay that much more. And I knew that once I left, I’d have to suck it up and move on. I wasn’t ready for that. I wanted to be an idiot and continue to wallow for a little bit longer.

  I’d lost track of time. I’d lost track of how long I sat there, alone at a bar, and cried to myself. I didn’t know what all I told Joe the bartender, or how much my tab was, even though I did pay for it and signed the slip with something that resembled one of Mikey’s drawings. I do remember drinking my water through a straw with my head in the palms of my hands when someone sat next to me. I ignored the intruder, but I could tell it wasn’t a stranger by the silence and the heavy sensation of being watched.

  When I finally relented and pulled my head away to see who sat there, a mixture of anger and sadness filled me. Beth sat next to me on a barstool with sad, droopy eyes and slumped shoulders.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” In my head I spoke crystal clear, but I’m sure the words came out slurred and incoherent.

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I’m not alone. I’m with Joe the bartender. Isn’t that right, Joe?” I yelled across the bar at the man that had fed me drinks all night. He looked up and…well, I don’t know what he did because I couldn’t see him clearly.

  “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be drinking by yourself.”

  I know I said something back. I know it made me feel good after I’d said it, however, I don’t know what those words were. And I’m even more certain they didn’t make any sense because Joe and Beth exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. I ignored them both and began to gulp down the cold water in front of me.

  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” she said with a sigh, as if I were a burden to her.

  I did appreciate her choice of words, though. At least she didn’t say “home.”

  She grabbed my purse from the bar and stood, waiting for me to join her, but I didn’t. I only watched her silently and remained on my stool. My emotions were so jumbled I couldn’t even form enough words to tell her to leave me alone.

  “Edie, come on. It’s late and you’re drunk.”

  “Eight years, Beth. Eight fucking years. And it’s all gone.” My arms flailed around dramatically as I tried to make my point. I wanted to express my pain, and at the time, moving my arms around in big circles seemed fitting.

  “How much did you have to drink?” she asked sympathetically. I could tell she’d attempted to make eye contact with me, however, I couldn’t hold it. I had a hard time focusing.

  “Eight shots. One for each year of my marriage. Apparently, eight shots is enough to get me wasted, yet eight years isn’t enough to make my husband fight for me. Ironic, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t use ironic. And how do you know he isn’t going to pull his head out of his ass and fight for you? It’s not over yet, Edie. Don’t give up.” She finally sat down again. I guess she realized I wasn’t going anywhere and she’d have one hell of a time dragging me out.

  “He gave me the divorce papers today. He’s selling the house and splitting everything with me. I think it’s safe to say it’s over. And I have no choice but to give up. So this…tonight…is me giving myself one last moment to grieve.” I held my glass of water, and after fighting with my straw for a moment, slipped it into my mouth and took a hard pull. My point would’ve been made better with a shot glass, but apparently I had been cut off.

  Her face fell and her shoulders slumped forward, revealing her own sign of defeat. I wasn’t sure if it was sympathy for me, or if she felt defeated herself. If this was the first she’d heard of the divorce and of Donnie’s decisions, then I couldn’t help but think maybe he hadn’t gone running back to her like I’d originally thought. Was that why she seemed so sad? Because she lost, too? I didn’t know how to feel about that.

  I didn’t know how to feel about anything.

  “Don’t sign them, Edie.” Her desponded voice pulled me from my hazy thoughts.

  My jaw dropped and my forehead scrunched as my eyes opened wide. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? It’s not like I can choose to not sign the papers and halt the divorce. It’ll go through whether I want it to or not. Why fight it?”

  “Because you love him. And because he loves you. And he’s doing this because he’s upset, not because he doesn’t want you anymore. I was there from the beginning of you guys. I was there when you were gone. I saw the look in his eyes every day you weren’t there. He was sad and lonely. I’m sure he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life like that.”

  “Sad and lonely…” I repeated, laughing to myself without the humor. My voice raised a few levels in anger as I continued. “He had you…couldn’t have been that lonely. And I’m sure you love the idea of me being out of the picture now. Now you can have him back. You can go back to playing the wife and mother to my family. Isn’t that what you want? Huh, Beth? Admit it…that’s what you want!”

  Beth stood up and took a step closer to me, getting inches from my face. “You’re drunk and upset, and I understand that, so I’m going to let that comment go. But don’t for one second think I’m happy about any of this. Not one damn thing. Those kids deserve more. You deserve more than eight shots and a night alone in a bar, crying to yourself. Stop the pity party, Edie. No one is joining you. Pull up your big-girl pants and do what you should’ve two years ago. Fight.”

  I shook my head and averted my gaze from her fiery eyes. “Just go, Beth. Go back to him. Make him happy. Make him forget about the pain I’ve caused him.” I didn’t even have the strength to yell or be angry. My shoulders slumped forward as I practically fell onto the bar.

  “No one can do that but you,” she said as she held onto my upper arm and spun me back in her direction. “Don’t sign the papers. At least not right now. Let him breathe. Give him time to come around. He’s acting on emotion, but he will see the truth.”

  I pulled my arm from her hand as she tried to drag me off my stool. “I’m not going with you, Beth. This whole thing is fucked up!” I lost control of my temper and yelled, louder this time, emphasizing my last two words. “Fucked. Up. You can’t decide what team you’re on. You were my friend, then you fucked my husband, and now you’re telling me to not give him up. Pick a damn side and stick to it.” My words were forced through my clenched teeth. My jaw ached from the pressure, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how many people heard me, or how much pain I inflicted on myself. I no longer cared about much of anything.

  “Shut up, Edie,” she said quietly, yet her words were full of anger.

  I let out a howling laugh, leaning my head back for emphasis. After righting myself, I looked around the bar and noticed the few heads that were turned our way. “Did you guys know this? This bitch right here used to be my best friend. And she’s been fucking my husband for the last two years.” I made sure everyone heard me.

  “Shut…the…fuck…up!” she threatened again through tight lips.

  “Oh, did you not wa
nt everyone to know? Was this supposed to be a secret? Well, shit! You had given me the impression that secrets weren’t meant to be kept—” I was cut off by a slap across my face. It stunned me more than anything, but there was no doubt that I’d feel the sting once the alcohol wore off.

  Beth turned and headed toward the door…with my purse still clutched in her hand. I jumped from my perch and ran after her, fuming with anger at her audacity. Seeping with fury at her betrayal. And desperate for some semblance of peace.

  I took three steps and caught up to her, reaching out and grabbing the only thing I could grab on to—her ponytail. My fingers twisted in the strands of hair as I yanked back, hard. She fell back as I stumbled into the bar, the pain yet again numbed by my inebriation.

  Once we had both righted ourselves, she turned and glared at me.

  “What do you want from me?” she cried out.

  “What I want is for you to rewind time. I want you to take me back to after the boys were born and make me get help. And if you can’t do that, go back to when I left”—I wiped pathetically at my wet face, unaware that I had started crying in the middle of the bar—“and unfuck my husband.” The last part came out in a shout, a desperate, painful shout.

  “I really wish you’d stop obsessing over Donnie and I fucking. It’s getting old.” Her jaw was tight and made the words come out harshly through her clenched teeth.

  I stepped closer to her, not caring the slightest how much attention we had attracted. “Well, you did, didn’t you? You fucked my husband. It doesn’t matter that I ran off. You knew why I left. You knew what I was going through. And what did you do while I’m away fighting for my sanity? You spread your legs for my husband. Did you get on your knees and suck his dick, too? Did he call out your name when he came? Let’s compare stories, shall we?” I had lost my temper. I no longer cared what happened. I had shoved down my feelings about this for far too long, and I refused to cower from my own emotions anymore. I was mad, and I was going to get it all out.

  “I didn’t fuck him!” she shouted back, her words catching me off guard. But before I could respond, she continued in the same loud, elevated voice. “We never had sex. We barely even kissed or held hands. Yes, we dated…and by dated, I mean I made him dinner. I fed your kids. I sat and watched TV with him at night until he was tired enough to fall asleep. He had a hard time sleeping, and hated the silence of the house, so I’d stay until he was ready for bed. I went without so much for two years…all for you. I haven’t gotten a full night of sleep in God knows how long. I haven’t gone shopping for myself or even bought a new pair of shoes. Anything I’ve gone out to buy has been for your kids. I bought them new shoes, new clothes, backpacks, haircuts, you name it, I bought it. Not for me, and not even for them, but for you. And did I grow feelings for Donnie while filling in for you? Yes, I did, and I’m tired of apologizing for that. I won’t do it anymore. I refuse to do it anymore because I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t fuck your husband.” She stood in front of me, breathless from her rage-induced tirade.

  I heard everything she said, but my mind couldn’t sort it all out. “Why didn’t you think to tell me that before?” I asked in a hush tone, aware of the quietness that surrounded us at the bar. All eyes were now on us, listening intently to our heated argument.

  “I’m sorry if the idea of having a conversation with you regarding my lack of sex life with your husband didn’t appeal to me. I thought he would’ve told you. And what did you think I’d say? Did you think I’d call you up and brag how I’ve spent the last two years with a man that I’ve never seen naked? That never once copped a feel or touched me? I wasn’t about to go into the details with you, Edie. And like I said, I thought Donnie would’ve said something to you.”

  “Well, he didn’t,” I said with my head pressed against my palms on the top of the bar.

  Beth turned around and mumbled, “Does it even make a difference?”

  I laughed, even though I found no humor in any of it. I laughed because I was drunk, because I was angry and confused. Sad and disconnected. The sound filled the space between us, causing her to face me once again. “No. It doesn’t change anything. I still think you’re a bitch. A bitch that ruined my life, and I can’t decide whether you did it on purpose or not. Donnie didn’t need to know about the baby. He didn’t need to know what I did.”

  “I’m a bitch?” she screeched and lunged at me again, but this time, one of the spectators grabbed her around her waist and kept her from hitting me again. She fought against the man’s hold as she screamed, “I thought he knew. You told me that you guys talked about it. How the hell was I supposed to know?”

  “Regardless if I told him or not…at what point did you think it was something that should’ve been discussed at the damn dinner table? You fucked Jimmy Nelson in your parents’ bed in high school and your mom found out…would that have made it okay if I sat around the living room with your parents and discussed it? No! So yes, you’re a bitch.” My anger not only showed itself in my words, but in my tone as well as I yelled at her, inches from her face with my own set of strong arms wrapped around me, holding me back. My brain couldn’t even register where they had come from or whom they belonged to. I didn’t care by that point.

  “I’ve put my entire life on hold for two years to make sure you still had one when you returned. I have done everything for you, and this is my thanks. Yeah, I’m the bitch, Edie. I’m the horrible person that has ruined your life because I accidentally said something you should’ve already told him. And if you didn’t want him to know, you should’ve at least told me that. I’ve kept your secret for this long, if I really wanted him to know, I would’ve let that cat out of the bag years ago.”

  I couldn’t fight against the arms that restrained me. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even see her through the wall of tears that filled my eyes. I could only stand there, stunned. I deserved it. I deserved everything I got. But Beth never deserved my anger or my blame.

  “You two need to take this somewhere else,” Joe, the bartender, said as he came to stand between us.

  “I’m out,” she spat and then turned around and left.

  Her tone broke the last part of me, the last bit of strength I had in me. Without a word, I turned around and noticed every pair of eyes as they gawked at me. I barely held it together as I cowardly bowed my head and slowly made my own way to the exit. By the time I made it outside to my car, I watched as Beth flew out of the parking space and sped through the lot, her tires screeching as she turned onto the road next to the bar and vanished.

  I didn’t want to leave, but I had to. I knew what awaited me back at my mom’s house. I knew the envelope containing the papers that marked the end of my marriage were there, along with one suitcase that held all of my possessions. That’s what I had been reduced to—a suitcase full of clothes and an envelope.

  It wasn’t until I reached for my own car door that I realized she still had my purse…with my keys, my phone, and my wallet.

  If this wasn’t karma…

  I had no way of knowing how long I sat next to my car in the parking lot. I didn’t have a watch and Beth had my phone. I sat with my back against the door, my legs pulled tightly against my chest, and my arms locked around my knees, hoping to go unnoticed by the people that were still inside. However, I could assume Beth had called the bar, because I noticed the bartender glancing my way on multiple occasions, almost as if keeping an eye on me.

  I felt too foolish to go inside. Too embarrassed to ask for help. And too distraught to get up and do anything to help myself. I knew Beth was angry, but I couldn’t imagine her leaving me there without a ride. Knowing her, she was probably sitting in her car somewhere close enough to watch me, to teach me a lesson. I deserved it. I was angry and took it out on her, when in reality, I was angry with myself. I added yet one more item to my list of things I needed to focus and improve on—my anger. My inability to step back from my emotions and take in the full picture. But
I would learn how to do that. I wouldn’t allow this moment of my life to pass by without learning from it, and using that knowledge to make me a better person.

  Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear the vehicle pull into the vacant spot on the other side of my car. I barely heard the door closing. And the sounds of heavy footsteps falling on the pavement around the front of my car did little to attract my attention. I was alone in a bar parking lot with nothing to defend myself with…I should’ve paid more attention to my surroundings, but I didn’t. My sobering mind was too lost in thoughts of how to improve myself, how to become a better mother for my children, and how to become a stronger person to make it through this next chapter of my life alone.

  “I know you say you’re not suicidal, but sitting out here alone seems like a death wish to me,” I heard him say as he moved around the car and stopped in front of my feet. I could only see his shoes, because I refused to allow my eyes to trail up his legs, to his chest, to his face, and see his eyes. I couldn’t do it.

  “What are you doing here, Donnie?” I asked, my voice full of defeat.

  “Giving you a lift home.”

  “Where are the kids?” The last thing I wanted my children to see was their mother drunk at a bar by herself. They didn’t need to witness my weakness. It was bad enough a roomful of strangers witnessed it.

  “At home with Beth.”

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Of course they are.

  Donnie knelt down until he was eye level with me. “She is only there so that I could come and get you. She didn’t know who else to call.”

  That felt like a slap in the face with a cold bucket of water. I didn’t have anyone else. The only two people I had in my life that didn’t hate me or want to cut me out were Dorothy and my own mom. Although I’m sure they would’ve come to pick me up in a heartbeat, I’m glad Beth didn’t call either of them. I didn’t need a mom at the moment…I needed a friend. And I clearly didn’t have one of those.