by Julie Hyzy
“Pete, listen. Listen close,” Gary kept one eye on the door as he spoke. He knew that Annie wouldn’t venture near the men’s room, but still. The sooner he could put his plan in motion the better. He spoke quickly into the phone, trying hard not to let his voice carry. Trying not to let his excitement show.
If this worked the way he hoped, he and Annie would be set for life. She wouldn’t approve of course, but it was her own fault, really. He hadn’t hatched this plan till after she shagged him out of the DeChristopher house. If she’d come up to the den when he’d called her, it would have been an entirely different story.
“Gary, Gary. Slow down. I can’t make out a word you’re saying. Where are you anyway?”
“Don’t matter. I can’t talk long.” He jumped when the washroom door shuddered a moment, but it was just the air current. “You remember all those newspaper clippings that Annie has that she keeps on the coffee table in the living room?”
Pete yawned again, making a little grunting noise and Gary heard him smack his lips. “Yeah . . . I think so.”
Pacing now, Gary tried to make himself clear through Pete’s fog of sleepiness. “Do me a favor, okay? Take ‘em. All of ‘em, and go make copies over at the gas station down the block.”
“Make copies of the newspaper articles?”
Gary squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes.”
“Whaddya want copies of those for? Why dontcha just read the ones that are here?”
“Because I don’t want Annie to know that I have them.” Anger shot out from his voice. “Pete,” he said in a calmer tone. “Let’s just keep that between us, okay?”
“You mean you and me?”
“Yes. You and me. Make the copies, then put the originals back on the table, okay? And then, meet me . . .” he glanced at his watch, “in about an hour at that bar we went to last Friday, okay?”
“Should I bring the copies with me?”
Gary grimaced as the bathroom door creaked, then wiggled ajar. An elderly man pushed it open, with difficulty. Shuffling two steps for every repositioning of his cane, he smiled as Gary pulled the door open for him, and thanked him in a wheezy voice. Gary nodded an acknowledgment, then said into the phone, before slapping it shut. “Yes, bring them.”
* * * * *
Annie watched Gary make his way back to their table. Even the way he walked annoyed her now. Smiling at the people at a handful of other tables. Like he knew them or something.
Sliding into his seat, Gary handed Annie’s cell phone back to her.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“If I don’t check in with my attorney from time to time, he forgets me.” Gary smiled, lifted his linen napkin, and snapped it out before dropping it on his lap. Leaning forward, he laughed in a contrived way. “You see, my case is such small potatoes, that he isn’t even worried about it.”
She shoved the phone back into her pack. “You were gone a long time.”
“Yeah, well, he’s hard to track down. Good attorneys are like that.”
Annie decided not to pursue the matter. “I ordered you a Coke.”
Elena returned to the table, delivering their beverages with practiced ease. When they’d first arrived, she’d given an interested murmur when Annie had refused a glass of wine and ordered iced tea instead. Now, holding the empty tray against her hip, Elena sighed, “Ahh,” with more than a little dramatic flair, “eet is so wonderful to see you both here again, together.” She pressed a red-chapped hand against her ample bosom. “I knew it when I saw you here last time, that it would not be the last. I am so happy.”
Whether an affectation or sincere, Annie didn’t know, but Elena touched the corner of her eye with a daintiness that belied her size, as though to wipe a tear. If she only knew that they were here to discuss a divorce. The situation was almost laughable. As the woman took their orders and made yet another comment about what a nice couple they made, Annie’s chest heaved with an unvoiced scream. She wanted to stand up and tell the whole restaurant crowd, of which there were probably eight people, that she was getting divorced, goddammit.
Instead, she picked up her iced tea and smiled.
Gary grinned at Elena’s departing figure. “I’m glad you suggested we come here instead of that other place we went. You just can’t beat stuff like that.”
“You wanna bet?”
“Annie,” Gary said, reaching for her hand.
“Don’t.”
He pulled his arm back across the table and mustered up enough petulance in his voice to tease up her anger again. “I’m just trying to find a little common ground here.”
She weighed her words. “We aren’t going to find common ground anymore, Gary.”
“What are you, joking? Except for the business right before we left, we were doing great. Working together. Having fun.” Looking at her, he added, “At least I was having fun. I liked being able to help you.”
Annie pulled her lips together in a tight line and stared at the fat red candleholder in the center of the table. Today had gotten out of hand. She’d let her guard down. Again. Every time she did, she found herself in a deeper mess. “I thought we were here to discuss the divorce. If you have something else in mind, tell me now, because then I’m outta here.” She held her hands out in an inquiring gesture and made ready to stand.
“No, of course,” Gary said, in a hurry. “That’s what we’re here for. Definitely. We need to talk about the divorce. So sit tight, okay?”
“You understand that I’m not changing my mind?”
Gary looked at his watch. “Yeah, I understand that.”
“And you understand that you and Pete have to find other living arrangements.”
“Well . . .” Gary hedged, “that may be tough, at least for a little while.”
“You’ve got two weeks.” Annie surprised herself with her forcefulness.
“That’s not much time,” he said.
“Two weeks.”
Gary stretched his arms on the table and looked down at his watch again. “Didn’t you say you needed a new lawyer? It’ll take you at least that long to find one. Let’s wait till the thing is in motion again. Until then, I can help you out by painting and you can help me out with a roof over my head. Whaddya say?”
“I’ve got a new lawyer. Mr. DeChristopher is handling the divorce. We’ve already discussed it.”
Gary’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kiddin’ me.”
Annie felt a measure of satisfaction. “Nope.”
Gary ran his hands through his hair in frustration, scrubbing his fingers on the back of his head before speaking again. “Okay, fine. We need to think about the baby.”
“What about the baby?”
“I’ve got it all figured out, Annie. Just give me a couple of months and I swear I’ll be set. I promise everything will work out. I just need some time.”
“We’re getting divorced. Or did you miss the first half of this conversation?” Angry now, her sarcasm shot across the table.
“I didn’t miss a thing,” he whispered. All of a sudden his eyes lit up, and he continued, not attempting to quiet his voice, “You are pregnant with my baby, aren’t you?”
Annie’s eyes widened. “Gary!”
“I mean, if that’s not something we have in common, I don’t know what is.”
“Forget the baby.” Annie surprised herself with her sharp tone. “What I’m trying to say,” she threw down the straw wrapper she’d been fiddling with, “is that I don’t . . .” her voice caught for a moment, less in sadness, than in knowing she was about to hurt him. No matter that their relationship was over, it was difficult for her to deliberately hurt anyone. She looked at him, knowing by the flicker of a reaction in his eyes, that he sensed her strength. In a low voice, speaking slowly, she continued, “I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Nothing.”
“Nothing to do with me,” he repeated, looking away.
“No.” Her quiet answer felt loud, like a go
ng.
His face reddened. “And when this baby’s born, what then?” His hands flew outward and his voice grew louder in indignation.
Annie lowered her head, but maintained eye contact. Although she whispered, she knew he heard every word. “When the time comes we’ll work something out, like visits and stuff. But I plan to raise this child alone.”
The quieter she grew, the louder he got. A bumpy blue vein stood out in his neck as he leaned forward, almost shouting, “I have rights too, you know.”
“Keep your voice down,” she said, her brow furrowing as she stole a glance around the room. A couple of people across the room looked over at them. She glared at him, speaking in a heated undertone. “I don’t care what rights you think you have. As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing to do with this baby.”
His face flushed with the immediate red of intense anger. Shouting an expletive, Gary slapped the table with both hands. “Oh really? I had nothing to do with you getting yourself pregnant?”
Now every eye in the restaurant shot their direction.
Beads of perspiration popped out all over Annie’s face and she took a deep breath, refusing to make eye contact with the other patrons. She put a hand up, but Gary wasn’t finished.
“Maybe I misunderstood your little confession the other day, sweetheart. When you told me you were pregnant I just assumed the baby was mine.” His face screwed up in a scowl and his voice grew louder with each syllable.
Gary looked around the restaurant with outstretched arms, playing to the dining audience. “I find out my wife is pregnant,” pointing at Annie, scraping his chair against the floor as he pushed backward to stand. “And, fool that I am, I’m happy about it. I’m thinkin’ hey, sure we have our problems, everybody does, but now we’re a family.” He shot a look at Annie so angry it burned. One of the elderly women sat frozen, her mashed-potato filled fork poised midway between the plate and her open mouth. Only her eyes moved, from Gary’s dramatic pose, to Annie’s infuriated and embarrassed face.
Without stopping for a breath, Gary continued, his voice booming throughout the room, bouncing off the large windows nearby, “Now I’m thinking, ‘What am Istupid?’ Maybe this baby isn’t mine after all.”
Annie jumped up, causing her chair to fall backwards. “Stop,” she reached across the table to grab his arm. He yanked away from her, feigning pain.
“What’s the name of the guy you’ve been spending your nights with? Sam?”
“Gary!” The shock of hearing Sam’s name coupled with the suggestion of an accusation startled Annie for a moment. A half-second later, her wits returned; she wondered how he knew Sam’s name. How dare he bring him into this? How dare he make such a spectacle of her? She grabbed at him, reaching across the table again, but he sidestepped her. “Stop it. Now.” Her own voice had risen several octaves, but as though distanced from her own actions, she couldn’t control herself.
Their voices mingled in a jangled contest of volume. Annie could feel the heat in her face, saw the blinding lights in her head again as her eyes scanned the area for something, anything to put an end to this madness. Blindly she searched for some way to shut him up. Her hands fell on her iced tea glass on the table before her. Acting on instinct, without stopping to think, her entire being consumed with the sole thought of shutting Gary up, she wrapped both hands around the heavy tumbler, and threw it at him. The glass itself barely grazed his shoulder but the liquid hit its mark, dousing his head, stopping him mid-sentence, covering his hair and shoulders in tea.
Horrified at her own actions, Annie pulled herself back. As though the moment had frozen and only Annie could move, she took in the sights in slow motion. Gary, across from her, dripping, looking hurt and angry all at once. The other diners sat wide-eyed, not bothering to feign indifference. Blue eyes, brown ones, green ones, all pointed her direction, all shooting identical looks of entertained shock. Aware of everyone, the diners, Elena, even the cooks, who’d come forward to watch, Annie grabbed her backpack, and fled to the ladies’ room.
Banging the hollow door open with the heel of her hand, Annie held her breath till the door squeaked closed behind her. One red vinyl chair sat in the corner of the small, poorly-lit space and she sat in it, happy to find the room unoccupied. Breathing hard, she used every ounce of fortitude to keep herself from crying. One of those automatic hand dryers sat perched at eye level next to her and she rested her forehead against the cool metallic box, replaying the last few moments in her mind.
“God damn you, Gary,” she whispered. “If you only knew how much I wish this was Sam’s baby. Anyone’s baby but yours.”
She sat up as the door creaked open. The older woman who’d been eating mashed potatoes peered around the corner. Her eyes, nearly as pale blue as her hair, registered satisfaction as she spied Annie.
“I have five children,” she said, moving forward. Nodding, smiling, approaching her like one would move toward a sleeping tiger, eager to touch, afraid it would bite. Was she waiting for a response?
Annie felt strength seeping away from her. All she wanted was to be left alone, to go home and go to sleep. She rested the side of her head against the hand dryer again and watched the woman, who moved closer yet again and blinked repeatedly before she continued to talk.
Wearing a shiny purple jogging suit with a big white “v” running down the center, straddling the zipper of the jacket, the woman looked to be around seventy. “Five of them,” she continued, nodding her head toward Annie’s abdomen. “Is this your first?”
Annie nodded, too tired to do otherwise.
“It’s a boy,” she said. “Carrying boys always made me crabby, too.” She took Annie’s hand and patted it. “Don’t feel bad, honey. Start thinking of boy names, now. And don’t mind how things went. Once they put that little bundle of joy in your arms, you both’ll forget today ever happened.” The woman’s face wrinkled into a wide smile, “Well, I just wanted to check on you, honey.” Her large-knuckled crooked finger wagged, “But, mark my words.”
The older woman turned to leave, pulling the door open again. Annie rested her elbows on her backpack and put her face in her hands. So now the entire restaurant thought of her as a hormonally challenged pregnant female who couldn’t hold her temper in public. If they only knew. Annie rubbed her eyes, pinching her eye sockets near her tear ducts. She would not cry. It didn’t matter what these people thought. Didn’t matter that Gary had been able to get a rise out of her. No. Nothing mattered anymore except her own well-being. Hers and the baby’s.
Taking a deep breath, Annie checked her reflection in the mirror, and satisfied that she looked like a calm human being once more, she realized she’d have to face the restaurant again, sooner or later, so better to get it over with.
Turning to the door, she was surprised to see it open again. The jogging suit woman peered back into the room, her face expressing distress. “Honey, I hate to tell you this, but I think your husband left you here.”
“What?”
“Just now, out the front door, I saw him get into a car and pull away.”
“A little dark blue car?”
“Yeah, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you need a ride home?”
She’d let her guard down again when she let him drive. He had her car keys. Annie threw her backpack onto the red chair and swore. Running her hands through her hair, she mumbled a few choice words about Gary, then turned to the woman, who waited. “No, actually I live nearby. I can walk.”
“You’re sure?”
Annie nodded. The woman moved forward as if to comfort Annie, but then appeared to think better of it and left the bathroom.
Annie waited a while before leaving. No rush now. She steadied herself, tried to calm her racing mind. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she headed to the cashier. Elena tried to smile, but her eyes were sad.
“Did he pay before he left?”
“No, Ahnnie, he didn’t.” Elena made brief eye contact, then began to s
tack and straighten the green and white receipts from scattered piles next to the cash register.
“Fine,” Annie said, pulling out a credit card. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elena said, whisking the plastic card through the reader. “You want I should call you a cab?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
Annie followed an older man to the front doors. Dressed in shiny brown too-short pants, a striped shirt, and gym shoes, he made his way slowly ahead of her. He leaned heavily on his cane and took small, careful steps, stopping as he encountered the heavy glass doors of the vestibule. His skinny spotted arm grasped at the handle, then stopped, as if to marshal his strength before attempting to open it. Annie scooted from behind him and pushed the door open, allowing him to pass. He shuffled through, thanking her, while she moved forward to open the next ones. As she waited for him to clear the second set of doors she scanned the parking lot beyond him, remembering where they’d parked the car. The woman had been right, Gary was gone.
Once the man was safely outside, she let go of the handle. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I’m gonna kill him. I’m just gonna kill him.”
The woman from the bathroom pulled up in a light blue Cadillac. Jumping out, she ran around the car. She took the older man’s arm to guide him into the passenger seat. Over her shoulder, she winked, “Good luck, honey.”
Chapter Thirteen
The walk home wasn’t so bad, though Annie wished she had her sunglasses. Just the act of putting one foot in front of the other tempered some of the anger that still seethed. Not too fast, not too slow, her steps were rhythmic enough to settle her nerves. She kicked a small rock out of her path, watched it skitter across the sidewalk, hit a crack, and bounce into the grass nearby.
Her eyes watered from the sun’s reflection on the cement. She hated being without her sunglasses and felt a disproportionate anger about missing them. Gary had really taken the cake this time. Not only had he stranded her like some fallen woman, he’d killed her chance to go see Sam tonight.